INPASTURES 

NEW 
W 

GEORGE 
ADE 


' 


OBRAltt 
fjmVERSITY  OF  CALIFORBOA 

DAVIS 


IN  PASTURES  NEW 


Holds  it  the  same  as  a  slide  trombone 


IN   PASTURES   NEW 


BY 
GEORGE    ADE 


NEW    YORK 

McCLURE,   PHILLIPS    &    CO, 
MCMVI 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
DAVIS 


Copyright,  1906,  by 
McCLURE,    PHILLIPS  &  CO. 

Published,  October,  1906 


Copyright,  1906,  by  George  Ade 


Many  of  the  letters  appearing  in  this  volume  were 
printed  in  a  syndicate  of  newspapers  in  the  early 
months  of  1906.  With  these  letters  have  been  incor 
porated  extracts  from  letters  written  to  the  Chicago 
Record  in  1895  and  1898.  For  the  use  of  the  letters 
which  first  appeared  in  the  Chicago  Record,  acknowl 
edgment  is  due  Mr.  Victor  F.  Lawson. 


CONTENTS 

In  London 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   GETTING    ACQUAINTED    WITH     THE     ENGLISH 

LANGUAGE      3 

II.   A  LIFE  ON  THE  OCEAN  WAVE,  WITH  MODERN 

VARIATIONS 17 

III.  WITH  MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON       37 

IV.  How  IT  FEELS  TO    GET    INTO    LONDON   AND 

THEN  BE  ENGULFED 55 

V.  As  TO  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  PASSPORT 

AND  THE  HANDY  LITTLE  CABLE  CODE  63 
VI.  WHAT  ONE  MAN  PICKED  UP  IN  LONDON  AND 

SENT  BACK  TO  His  BROTHER     ...        72 

In  Paris 
VII.  How  AN  AMERICAN  ENJOYS  LIFE  FOR  EIGHT 

MINUTES  AT  A  TIME 83 

VIII.   A  CHAPTER    OF  FRENCH    JUSTICE    AS    DEALT 

OUT  IN  THE  DREYFUS  CASE  ....  90 
IX.  THE  STORY  OF  WHAT  HAPPENED  TO  AN 

AMERICAN  CONSUL 98 

In  Naples 
X.   MR.   PEASLEY    AND    His    VIVID    IMPRESSIONS 

OF   FOREIGN  PARTS 117 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

In  Cairo 

CHAPTER  FACE 

XI.  CAIRO  AS  THE  ANNUAL  STAMPING  GROUND 
FOR  AMERICANS  AND  WHY  THEY  MAKE 
THE  TRIP .  .  „  135 

XII.  ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO,  WITH    AND    WITHOUT 

THE  ASSISTANCE   OF  THE   DRAGOMAN  OR 
SIMON  LEGREE  OF  THE  ORIENT        .      .      152 

XIII.  ALL  ABOUT  OUR  VISIT  TO  THE  PYRAMID  OF 

CHEOPS 168 

XIV.  DASHING    UP  THE  NILE    IN    COMPANY    WITH 

MR.    PEASLEY   AND    OTHERS       .      .      .      185 
XV.   DAY   BY  DAY  ON  THE  DROWSY  NILE,  WITH 
SOMETHING     ABOUT      THE    WONDERFUL 

HASSIM         203 

XVI.   THE  MOHAMMEDAN    FLY    AND   OTHER  CREA 
TURES  ALONG  THE  NlLE         .       .        ...       225 
XVII.     IN  AND  AROUND   LuXOR,     WITH     A   SlDE    LlGHT 

ON  RAMESES  THE    GREAT       ,  242 

XVIII.   THE    ORDINARY    HUMAN  FAILINGS    OF    THE 

ANCIENT  MOGULS 261 

XIX.   ROYAL     TOMBS     AND     OTHER      PLACES     OF 

AMUSEMENT 274 

In  Cairo 
XX.   MR.   PEASLEY  AND   His    FINAL    SIZE-UP   OF 

EGYPT      .      0      .      .      .  293 


IN    LONDON 


CHAPTER    I 

GETTING    ACQUAINTED    WITH    THE 
ENGLISH    LANGUAGE 

IT  may  be  set  down  as  a  safe  proposition  that  every 
man  is  a  bewildered  maverick  when  he  wanders  out  of 
his  own  little  bailiwick.  Did  you  ever  see  a  stock 
broker  on  a  stock  farm,  or  a  cow  puncher  at  the 
Waldorf? 

A  man  may  be  a  large  duck  in  his  private  puddle, 
but  when  he  strikes  deep  and  strange  waters  he 
forgets  how  to  swim. 

Take  some  captain  of  industry  who  resides  in  a 
large  city  of  the  Middle  West.  At  home  he  is  un 
questionably  IT.  Everyone  knows  the  size  of  his 
bank  account,  and  when  he  rides  down  to  business 
in  the  morning  the  conductor  of  the  trolley  holds 
the  car  for  him.  His  fellow  passengers  are  delighted 
to  get  a  favouring  nod  from  him.  When  he  sails  into 
the  new  office  building  the  elevator  captain  gives  him 
a  cheery  but  deferential  "  good  morning."  In  his 
private  office  he  sits  at  a  $500  roll  top  desk  from 
Grand  Rapids,  surrounded  by  push  buttons,  and 

3 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

when  he  gives  the  word  someone  is  expected  to  hop. 
At  noon  he  goes  to  his  club  for  luncheon.  The  head 
waiter  jumps  over  two  chairs  to  get  at  him  and  re 
lieve  him  of  his  hat  and  then  leads  him  to  the  most 
desirable  table  and  hovers  over  him  even  as  a  mother 
hen  broods  over  her  first  born. 

This  Distinguished  Citizen,  director  of  the  First 
National  Bank,  trustee  of  the  Cemetery  Association, 
member  of  the  Advisory  Committee  of  the  Y.  M. 
C.  A.,  president  of  the  Saturday  Night  Poker  Club, 
head  of  the  Commercial  Club,  and  founder  of  the 
Wilson  County  Trotting  Association,  is  a  whale 
when  he  is  seated  on  his  private  throne  in  the  corn 
belt.  He  rides  the  whirlwind  and  commands  the 
storm.  The  local  paper  speaks  of  him  in  bated 
capital  letters,  and  he  would  be  more  or  less  than 
human  if  he  failed  to  believe  that  he  was  a  very  large 
gun. 

Take  this  same  Business  Behemoth  and  set  him 
down  in  Paris  or  Rome  or  Naples.  With  a  red 
guide  book  clutched  helplessly  in  his  left  hand  and 
his  right  hand  free,  so  that  he  can  dig  up  the  cur 
rency  of  the  realm  every  thirty  seconds,  he  sets 
forth  to  become  acquainted  with  mediaeval  architec 
ture  and  the  work  of  the  old  masters.  He  is  just  as 
helpless  and  apprehensive  as  a  country  boy  at  Coney 

4 


GETTING    ACQUAINTED 

Island.  The  guides  and  cabmen  bullyrag  him.  News 
boys  and  beggars  pester  him  with  impunity.  Children 
in  the  street  stop  to  laugh  at  his  Kansas  City  hat 
known  to  the  trade  as  a  Fedora.  When  he  goes 
into  a  shop  the  polite  brigand  behind  the  showcase 


Stop  to  laugh  at  his  Kansas  City  hat 
charges  him  two  prices  and  gives  him  bad  money 
for  change. 

Why?  Because  he  is  in  a  strange  man's  town, 
stripped  of  his  local  importance  and  battling  with  a 
foreign  language.  The  man  who  cannot  talk  back 
immediately  becomes  a  weakling. 

What  is  the  chief  terror  to  travel?  It  is  the  lone- 
5 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

someness  of  feeling  that  one  cannot  adapt  himself 
to  the  unfamiliar  background  and  therefore  is  sure 
to  attract  more  or  less  attention  as  a  curio.  And  in 
what  city  does  this  feeling  of  lonesomeness  become 
most  overwhelming?  In  London. 

The  American  must  go  to  England  in  order  to 
learn  for  a  dead  certainty  that  he  does  not  speak 
the  English  language.  On  the  Continent  if  he  kicks 
on  the  charges  and  carries  a  great  deal  of  hand 
luggage  and  his  clothes  do  not  fit  him  any  too  well 
he  may  be  mistaken  for  an  Englishman.  This  great 
joy  never  awaits  him  in  London. 

I  do  not  wish  to  talk  about  myself,  yet  I  can  say 
with  truthfulness  that  I  have  been  working  for  years 
to  enrich  the  English  language.  Most  of  the  time 
I  have  been  years  ahead  of  the  dictionaries.  I  have 
been  so  far  ahead  of  the  dictionaries  that  sometimes 
I  fear  they  will  never  catch  up.  It  has  been  my 
privilege  to  use  words  that  are  unknown  to  Lindley 
Murray.  Andrew  Lang  once  started  to  read  my 
works  and  then  sank  with  a  bubbling  cry  and  did 
not  come  up  for  three  days. 

It  seems  that  in  my  efforts  to  enrich  the  English 
language  I  made  it  too  rich,  and  some  who  tried  it 
afterward  complained  of  mental  gastritis.  In  one  of 
my  fables,  written  in  pure  and  undefiled  Chicago, 

6 


GETTING    ACQUAINTED 

reference  was  made  to  that  kind  of  a  table  d'hote 
restaurant  which  serves  an  Italian  dinner  for  sixty 
cents.  This  restaurant  was  called  a  "  spaghetti 
joint."  Mr.  Lang  declared  that  the  appellation  was 
altogether  preposterous,  as  it  is  a  well-known  fact 
that  spaghetti  has  no  joints,  being  invertebrate  and 
quite  devoid  of  osseous  tissue,  the  same  as  a  cater 
pillar.  Also  he  thought  that  "  cinch "  was  merely 
a  misspelling  of  "  sink,"  something  to  do  with  a 
kitchen.  Now  if  an  American  reeking  with  the  sweet 
vernacular  of  his  native  land  cannot  make  himself 
understood  by  one  who  is  familiar  with  all  the  ins 
and  outs  of  our  language,  what  chance  has  he 
with  the  ordinary  Londoner,  who  gets  his  vocabu 
lary  from  reading  the  advertisements  carried  by 
sandwich  men? 

This  pitiful  fact  comes  home  to  every  American 
when  he  arrives  in  London — there  are  two  languages, 
the  English  and  the  American.  One  is  correct;  the 
other  is  incorrect.  One  is  a  pure  and  limpid  stream ; 
the  other  is  a  stagnant  pool,  swarming  with  bacilli. 
In  front  of  a  shop  in  Paris  is  a  sign,  "  English 
spoken — American  understood."  This  sign  is  just  as 
misleading  as  every  other  sign  in  Paris.  If  our  Eng 
lish  cannot  be  understood  right  here  in  England, 
what  chance  have  we  among  strangers? 

7 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

One  of  the  blessed  advantages  of  coming  here  to 
England  is  that  every  American,  no  matter  how  old 
he  may  be  or  how  often  he  has  assisted  at  the  mas 
sacre  of  the  mother  tongue,  may  begin  to  get  a 
correct  line  on  the  genuine  English  speech.  A  few 
Americans,  say  fifty  or  more  in  Boston  and  several 
in  New  York,  are  said  to  speak  English  in  spots. 
Very  often  they  fan,  but  sometimes  they  hit  the  ball. 
By  patient  endeavor  they  have  mastered  the  sound 
of  "  a,"  as  in  "  father,"  but  they  continue  to  call  a 
clerk  a  clerk,  instead  of  a  "  clark,"  and  they  never 
have  gained  the  courage  to  say  "  lef tenant."  They 
wander  on  the  suburbs  of  the  English  language, 
nibbling  at  the  edges,  as  it  were.  Anyone  living  west 
of  Pittsburg  is  still  lost  in  the  desert. 

It  is  only  when  the  Pilgrim  comes  right  here  to 
the  fountain  head  of  the  Chaucerian  language  that 
he  can  drink  deep  and  revive  his  parched  intellect. 
For  three  days  I  have  been  camping  here  at  the  head 
waters  of  English.  Although  this  is  my  fourth  visit 
to  London  and  I  have  taken  a  thorough  course  at  the 
music  halls  and  conversed  with  some  of  the  most 
prominent  shopkeepers  on  or  in  the  Strand,  to  say 
nothing  of  having  chatted  almost  in  a  spirit  of 
democratic  equality  with  some  of  the  most  repre 
sentative  waiters,  I  still  feel  as  if  were  a  little  child 

8 


GETTING   ACQUAINTED 

playing  by  the  seashore  while  the  great  ocean  of 
British  idioms  lies  undiscovered  before  me. 

Yesterday,  however,  I  had  the  rare  and  almost 
delirious  pleasure  of  meeting  an  upper  class  English 
man.  He  has  family,  social  position,  wealth,  several 
capital  letters  trailing  after  his  name  (which  is  long 
enough  without  an  appendix),  an  ancestry,  a  glori 
ous  past  and  possibly  a  future.  Usually  an  American 
has  to  wait  in  London  eight  or  ten  years  before  he 
meets  an  Englishman  who  is  not  trying  to  sell  him 
dress  shirts  or  something  to  put  on  his  hair.  In  two 
short  days — practically  at  one  bound — I  had  realised 
the  full  ambition  of  my  countrymen. 

Before  being  presented  to  the  heavy  swell  I  was 
taken  into  the  chamber  of  meditation  by  the  Ameri 
can  who  was  to  accompany  me  on  this  flight  to  glory. 
He  prepared  me  for  the  ceremony  by  whispering  to 
me  that  the  chap  we  were  about  to  meet  went  every 
where  and  saw  everybody ;  that  he  was  a  'varsity 
man  and  had  shot  big  game  and  had  a  place  up 
country,  and  couldn't  remember  the  names  of  all  his 
clubs — had  to  hire  a  man  by  the  year  just  to  remem 
ber  the  names  of  his  clubs. 

May  I  confess  that  I  was  immensely  flattered  to 
know  that  I  could  meet  this  important  person? 
When  we  are  at  long  range  we  throw  bricks  at  the 

9 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

aristocracy  and  landed  gentry,  but  when  we  come 
close  to   them  we  tremble  violently   and   are  much 


Just  to  remember  the  names  of  his  clubs 

pleased  if  they  differentiate  us  from  the  furniture 
of  the  room. 

Why  not  tell  the  truth  for  once?  I  was  tickled 
10 


GETTING    ACQUAINTED 

and  overheated  with  bliss  to  know  that  this  social 
lion  was  quite  willing  to  sit  alongside  of  me  and 
breathe  the  adjacent  atmosphere. 

Also  I  was  perturbed  and  stage  frightened  because 
I  knew  that  I  spoke  nothing  but  the  American  lan 
guage,  and  that  probably  I  used  my  nose  instead  of 
my  vocal  chords  in  giving  expression  to  such 
thoughts  as  might  escape  from  me.  Furthermore, 
I  was  afraid  that  during  our  conversation  I  might 
accidentally  lapse  into  slang,  and  I  knew  that  in 
Great  Britain  slang  is  abhorred  above  every  other 
earthly  thing  except  goods  of  German  manufacture. 
So  I  resolved  to  be  on  my  guard  and  try  to  come  as 
near  to  English  speech  as  it  is  possible  for  anyone 
to  come  after  he  has  walked  up  and  down  State 
street  for  ten  years. 

My  real  and  ulterior  motive  in  welcoming  this 
interview  with  a  registered  Englishman  was  to  get, 
free  of  charge,  an  allopathic  dose  of  24-karat 
English.  I  wanted  to  bask  in  the  bright  light  of 
an  intellect  that  had  no  flickers  in  it  and  absorb 
some  of  the  infallibility  that  is  so  prevalent  in  these 
parts. 

We  met.  I  steadied  myself  and  said : — "  I'm  glad 
to  know  you — that  is,  I  am  extremely  pleased  to 
have  the  honour  of  making  your  acquaintance." 

11 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

He  looked  at  me  with  a  kindly  light  in  his  steel 
blue  eye,  and  after  a  short  period  of  deliberation 
spoke  as  follows : — "  Thanks." 

"  The  international  developments  of  recent  years 
have  been  such  as  should  properly  engender  a  feeling 
of  the  warmest  brotherhood  between  all  branches  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  race,"  I  said.  "  I  don't  think  that 
any  fair-minded  American  has  it  in  for  Great  Brit 
ain — that  is,  it  seems  to  me  that  all  former  resent 
ment  growing  out  of  early  conflicts  between  the  two 
countries  has  given  way  to  a  spirit  of  tolerant  under 
standing.  Do  you  not  agree  with  me?  " 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  as  if  not  desiring  to 
commit  himself  by  a  hasty  or  impassioned  reply, 
and  then  delivered  himself  as  follows : — "  Quite." 

u  It  seems  to  me,"  I  said,  following  the  same  line 
of  thought,  "  that  fair-minded  people  on  both  sides 
of  the  water  are  getting  sore — that  is,  losing 
patience  with  the  agitators  who  preach  the  old  doc 
trine  that  our  attitude  toward  Great  Britain  is  neces 
sarily  one  of  enmity.  We  cannot  forget  that  when 
the  European  Powers  attempted  to  concert  their 
influence  against  the  United  States  at  the  outset  of 
the  late  war  with  Spain  you  bluffed  them  out — that  is, 
you  induced  them  to  relinquish  their  unfriendly  in 
tentions.  Every  thoughtful  man  in  America  is  on  to 

12 


13 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

this  fact — that  is,  he  understands  how  important 
was  the  service  you  rendered  us — and  he  is  corre 
spondingly  grateful.  The  American  people  and  the 
English  people  speak  the  same  language,  theoreti 
cally.  Our  interests  are  practically  identical  in  all 
parts  of  the  world — that  is,  we  are  trying  to  do 
everybody,  and  so  are  you.  What  I  want  to  convey 
is  that  neither  nation  can  properly  work  out  its  des 
tiny  except  by  co-operating  with  the  other.  There 
fore  any  policy  looking  toward  a  severance  of 
friendly  relations  is  unworthy  of  consideration." 

"Rot!"  said  he. 

"  Just  at  present  all  Americans  are  profoundly 
grateful  to  the  British  public  for  its  generous  recog 
nition  of  the  sterling  qualities  of  our  beloved  Execu 
tive,"  I  continued.  "  Over  in  the  States  we  think 
that  *  Teddy  '  is  the  goods — that  is,  the  people  of 
all  sections  have  unbounded  faith  in  him.  We  think 
he  is  on  the  level — that  is,  that  his  dominant  policies 
are  guided  by  the  spirit  of  integrity.  As  a  fair- 
minded  Briton,  who  is  keeping  in  touch  with  the 
affairs  of  the  world,  may  I  ask  you  your  candid 
opinion  of  President  Roosevelt?  " 

After  a  brief  pause  he  spoke  as  follows: — 
"  Ripping !  " 

"  The  impulse  of  friendliness  on  the  part  of  the 
14 


GETTING    ACQUAINTED 

English  people  seems  to  be  more  evident  year  by 
year,"  I  continued.  "  It  is  now  possible  for  Ameri 
cans  to  get  into  nearly  all  the  London  hotels.  You 
show  your  faith  in  our  monetary  system  by  accept 
ing  all  the  collateral  we  can  bring  over.  No  identifi 
cation  is  necessary.  Formerly  the  visiting  American 
was  asked  to  give  references  before  he  was  separated 
from  his  income — that  is,  before  one  of  your  business 
institutions  would  enter  into  negotiations  with  him. 
Nowadays  you  see  behind  the  chin  whisker  the  beau 
tiful  trade  mark  of  consanguinity.  You  say,  *  Blood 
is  thicker  than  water,'  and  you  accept  a  five-dollar 
bill  just  the  same  as  if  it  were  an  English  sovereign 
worth  four  dollars  and  eighty-six  cents." 

"  Jolly  glad  to  get  it,"  said  he. 

"  Both  countries  have  adopted  the  gospel  of  reci 
procity,"  I  said,  warmed  by  this  sudden  burst  of 
enthusiasm.  "  We  send  shiploads  of  tourists  over 
here.  You  send  shiploads  of  English  actors  to  New 
York.  The  tourists  go  home  as  soon  as  they  are 
broke — that  is,  as  soon  as  their  funds  are  exhausted. 
The  English  actors  come  home  as  soon  as  they  are 
independently  rich.  Everybody  is  satisfied  with  the 
arrangement  and  the  international  bonds  are  further 
strengthened.  Of  course,  some  of  the  English  actors 
blow  up — that  is,  fail  to  meet  with  any  great  measur^ 

15 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

of  financial  success — when  they  get  out  as  far  as 
Omaha,  but  while  they  are  mystifying  the  American 
public  some  of  our  tourists  are  going  around  Lon 
don  mystifying  the  British  public.  Doubtless  you 
have  seen  some  of  these  tourists  ?  " 

The  distinguished  person  nodded  his  head  in  grave 
acquiescence  and  then  said  with  some  feeling: — 
"  Bounders ! " 

"  In  spite  of  these  breaches  of  international  faith 
the  situation  taken  as  a  whole  is  one  promising  an 
indefinite  continuation  of  cordial  friendship  between 
the  Powers,"  I  said.  "  I  am  darned  glad  that  such  is 
the  case ;  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Rather,"  he  replied. 

Then  we  parted. 

It  was  really  worth  a  long  sea  voyage  to  be  per 
mitted  to  get  the  English  language  at  first  hand ; 
to  revel  in  its  unexpected  sublimities,  and  gaze  down 
new  and  awe-inspiring  vistas  of  rhetorical  splendour. 


16 


CHAPTER    II 

A    LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE,    WITH 
MODERN    VARIATIONS 

A  MONTH  before  sailing  I  visited  the  floating 
skyscraper  which  was  to  bear  us  away.  It  was 
hitched  to  a  dock  in  Hoboken,  and  it  reminded  me  of 
a  St.  Bernard  dog  tied  by  a  silken  thread.  It  was  the 
biggest  skiff  afloat,  with  an  observatory  on  the  roof 
and  covered  porches  running  all  the  way  around.  It 
was  a  very  large  boat. 

After  inspecting  the  boat  and  approving  of  it,  I 
selected  a  room  with  southern  exposure.  Later  on, 
when  we  sailed,  the  noble  craft  backed  into  the  river 
and  turned  round  before  heading  for  the  Old  World, 
and  I  found  myself  on  the  north  side  of  the  ship, 
with  nothing  coming  in  at  the  porthole  except  a 
current  of  cold  air  direct  from  Labrador. 

This  room  was  on  the  starboard  or  port  side  of  the 
ship — I  forget  which.  After  travelling  nearly  one 
million  miles,  more  or  less,  by  steamer,  I  am  still 
unable  to  tell  which  is  starboard  and  which  is  port. 
I  can  tell  time  by  the  ship's  bell  if  you  let  me  use  a 

17 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

pencil,  but  "  starboard  "  means  nothing  to  me.  In 
order  to  make  it  clear  to  the  reader,  I  will  say  that 
the  room  was  on  the  "  haw "  side  of  the  boat.  I 
thought  I  was  getting  the  "  gee  "  side  as  the  vessel 
lay  at  the  dock,  but  I  forgot  that  it  had  to  turn 


I  complained  to  one  of  the  officers 

around  in  order  to  start  for  Europe,  and  I  found 
myself  "  haw."  I  complained  to  one  of  the  officers 
and  said  that  I  had  engaged  a  stateroom  with 
southern  exposure.  He  said  they  couldn't  back  up 

1$ 


LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE 

all  the  way  across  the  Atlantic  just  to  give  me  the 
sunny  side  of  the  boat.  This  closed  the  incident.  He 
did  explain,  however,  that  if  I  remained  in  the  ship 
and  went  back  with  them  I  would  have  southern 
exposure  all  the  way  home. 

Our  ship  was  the  latest  thing  out.  To  say  that  it 
was  about  seven  hundred  feet  long  and  nearly  sixty 
feet  beam  and  42,000  tons  displacement  does  not  give 
a  graphic  idea  of  its  huge  proportions.  A  New 
Yorker  might  understand  if  told  that  this  ship,  stood 
on  end,  would  be  about  as  tall  as  two  Flatiron  build 
ings  spliced  end  to  end. 

Out  in  Indiana  this  comparison  was  unavailing, 
as  few  of  the  residents  have  seen  the  Flatiron 
Building  and  only  a  small  percentage  of  them  have 
any  desire  to  see  it.  So  when  a  Hoosier  acquaintance 
asked  me  something  about  the  ship  I  led  him  out 
into  Main  Street  and  told  him  that  it  would  reach 
from  the  railroad  to  the  Presbyterian  church.  He 
looked  down  street  at  the  depot  and  then  he  looked 
up  street  at  the  distant  Presbyterian  church,  and 
then  he  looked  at  me  and  walked  away.  Every  state 
ment  that  I  make  in  my  native  town  is  received  with 
doubt.  People  have  mistrusted  me  ever  since  I  came 
home  years  ago  and  announced  that  I  was  working. 

Evidently  he  repeated  what  I  had  said,  for  in  a 
19 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

few  minutes  another  resident  came  up  and  casually 
asked  me  something  about  the  ship  and  wanted  to 
know  how  long  she  was.  I  repeated  the  Presbyterian 
church  story.  He  merely  remarked  "  I  thought 
*  Bill '  was  lyin'  to  me,"  and  then  went  his  way. 

It  is  hard  to  live  down  a  carefully  acquired  reputa 
tion,  and  therefore  the  statement  as  to  the  length  of 
the  vessel  was  regarded  as  a  specimen  outburst  of 
native  humour.  When  I  went  on  to  say  that  the  boat 
would  have  on  board  three  times  as  many  people  as 
there  were  in  our  whole  town,  that  she  had  seven 
decks,  superimposed  like  the  layers  of  a  jelly  cake, 
that  elevators  carried  passengers  from  one  deck  to 
another,  that  a  daily  newspaper  was  printed  on 
board,  and  that  a  brass  band  gave  concerts  every 
day,  to  say  nothing  of  the  telephone  exchange  and 
the  free  bureau  of  information,  then  all  doubt  was 
dispelled  and  my  local  standing  as  a  dealer  in  morbid 
fiction  was  largely  fortified. 

The  chief  wonder  of  our  new  liner  (for  all  of  us 
had  a  proprietary  interest  the  moment  we  came 
aboard)  was  the  system  of  elevators.  Just  think  of 
it!  Elevators  gliding  up  and  down  between  decks 
the  same  as  in  a  modern  office  building.  Very  few 
passengers  used  the  elevators,  but  it  gave  us  some 
thing  to  talk  about  on  board  ship  and  it  would  give 

20 


LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE 
us  something  to  blow  about  after  we  had  returned 
home. 

Outside  of  the  cage  stood  a  young  German  with  a 
blonde  pompadour  and  a  jacket  that  came  just  below 
his  shoulder  blades.  He  was  so  clean  he  looked  as  if 
he  had  been  scrubbed  with  soap  and  then  rubbed  with 
holystone.  Every  German  menial  on  board  seemed 
to  have  two  guiding  ambitions  in  life.  One  was  to 
keep  himself  immaculate  and  the  other  was  to  grow 
a  U-shaped  moustache,  the  same  as  the  one  worn  by 
the  Kaiser. 

The  boy  in  charge  of  the  elevator  would  plead 
with  people  to  get  in  and  ride.  Usually,  unless  he 
waylaid  them,  they  would  forget  all  about  the  new 
improvement  and  would  run  up  and  down  stairs  in 
the  old-fashioned  manner  instituted  by  Noah  and 
imitated  by  Christopher  Columbus. 

This  boy  leads  a  checkered  career  on  each  voyage. 
When  he  departs  from  New  York  he  is  the  elevator 
boy.  As  the  vessel  approaches  Plymouth,  England, 
he  becomes  the  lift  attendant.  At  Cherbourg  he  is 
transformed  into  a  garfon  d'ascenseur,  and  as  the 
ship  draws  near  Hamburg  he  is  the  Aufzugsbehue- 
ter,  which  is  an  awful  thing  to  call  a  mere  child. 

Goodness  only  knows  what  will  be  the  ultimate  re 
sult  of  present  competition  between  ocean  liners.  As 

21 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

our  boat  was  quite  new  and  extravagantly  up-to- 
date,  perhaps  some  information  concerning  it  will 
be  of  interest,  even  to  those  old  and  hardened  travel 
lers  who  have  been  across  so  often  that  they  no 
longer  set  down  the  run  of  the  ship  and  have  ceased 
sending  pictorial  post-cards  to  their  friends  at 
home. 

In  the  first  place,  a  telephone  in  every  room,  con 
nected  with  a  central  station.  The  passenger  never 
uses  it,  because  when  he  is  a  thousand  miles  from 
shore  there  is  no  one  to  be  called  up,  and  if  he  needs 
the  steward  he  pushes  a  button.  But  it  is  there — a 
real  German  telephone,  shaped  like  a  broken  pretzel, 
and  anyone  who  has  a  telephone  in  his  room  feels 
that  he  is  getting  something  for  his  money. 

After  two  or  three  lessons  any  American  can  use 
a  foreign  telephone.  All  he  has  to  learn  is  which  end 
to  put  to  his  ear  and  how  to  keep  two  or  three 
springs  pressed  down  all  the  time  he  is  talking.  In 
America  he  takes  down  the  receiver  and  talks  into  the 
'phone.  Elsewhere  he  takes  the  entire  telephone  down 
from  a  rack  and  holds  it  the  same  as  a  slide 
trombone. 

In  some  of  the  cabins  were  electric  hair  curlers. 
A  Cleveland  man  who  wished  to  call  up  the  adjoining 
cabin  on  the  'phone,  just  to  see  if  the  thing  would 

22 


Holds  it  the  same  as  a  slide  trombone 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

work,  put  the  hair  curler  to  his  ear  and  began 
talking  into  the  dynamo.  There  was  no  response,  so 
he  pushed  a  button  and  nearly  ruined  his  left  ear. 
It  was  a  natural  mistake.  In  Europe,  anything 
attached  to  the  wall  is  liable  to  be  a  telephone. 

On  the  whole,  I  think  our  telephone  system  is  su 
perior  to  that  of  any  foreign  cities.  Our  telephone 
girls  have  larger  vocabularies,  for  one  thing.  In 
England  the  "  hello  "  is  never  used.  When  an  Eng 
lishman  gathers  up  the  ponderous  contrivance  and 
fits  it  against  his  head  he  asks: — "  Are  you  there?  " 
If  the  other  man  answers  "  No,"  that  stops  the 
whole  conversation. 

Travellers  throughout  the  world  should  rise  up 
and  unite  in  a  vote  of  thanks  to  whoever  it  was  that 
abolished  the  upper  berth  in  the  newer  boats.  Maho 
met's  coffin  suspended  in  mid  air  must  have  been  a 
cheery  and  satisfactory  bunk  compared  with  the  or 
dinary  upper  berth.  Only  a  trained  athlete  can  climb 
into  one  of  them.  The  woodwork  that  you  embrace 
and  rub  your  legs  against  as  you  struggle  upward 
is  very  cold.  When  you  fall  into  the  clammy  sheets 
you  are  only  about  six  inches  from  the  ceiling.  In  the 
early  morning  the  sailors  scour  the  deck  just  over 
head  and  you  feel  as  if  you  were  getting  a  shampoo. 
The  aerial  sarcophagus  is  built  deep,  like  a  trough, 

24 


LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE 
so  that  the  prisoner  cannot  roll  out  during  the  night. 
It  is  narrow,  and  the  man  who  is  addicted  to  the 
habit    of   "  spraddling "    feels    as    if   he   were   tied 
hand  and  foot. 

In  nearly  all  of  the  staterooms  of  the  new  boat 
there  were  no  upper  berths,  and  the  lower  ones  were 
wide  and  springy — they  were  almost  beds,  and  a  bed 
on  board  ship  is  something  that  for  years  has 
been  reserved  as  the  special  luxury  of  the  million 
aire. 

I  like  the  democracy  of  a  shipboard  community. 
You  take  the  most  staid  and  awe-inspiring  notable 
in  the  world,  bundle  him  in  a  damp  storm-coat  and 
pull  a  baggy  travelling  cap  down  over  his  ears  and 
there  is  none  so  humble  as  to  do  him  reverence.  One 
passenger  may  say  to  another  as  this  great  man 
teeters  along  the  deck,  squinting  against  the  wind: 
"  Do  you  know  who  that  man  is  ?  " 

"No,  who  is  it?" 

"That's  William  Bilker,  the  millionaire  philan 
thropist.  He  owns  nearly  all  the  coke  ovens  in 
the  world — has  built  seven  theological  seminaries. 
He's  going  to  Europe  to  escape  a  Congressional 
investigation." 

That  is  the  end  of  it  so  far  as  any  flattering 
attentions  to  Mr.  Bilker  are  concerned.  If  he  goes 

25 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

in  the  smoking-room  some  beardless  youth  will  in 
vite  him  to  sit  in  a  game  of  poker.  His  confidential 
friend  at  the  table  may  be  a  Montana  miner,  a 
Chicago  real  estate  agent  or  a  Kentucky  horse 
man.  He  may  hold  himself  aloof  from  the  betting 
crowd  and  discourage  those  who  would  talk  with 
him  on  deck,  but  he  cannot  by  any  possibility  be 
a  man  of  importance.  Compared  with  the  captain, 
for  instance,  he  is  a  worm.  And  the  captain  draws 
probably  $2500  a  year.  It  must  be  a  lot  of  fun  to 
stay  on  board  ship  all  the  time.  Otherwise  the  ocean 
liner  could  not  get  so  many  high  class  and  capable 
men  to  work  for  practically  nothing. 

On  the  open  sea  a  baby  is  much  more  interesting 
than  a  railway  president  and  juveniles  in  general 
are  a  mighty  welcome  addition  to  the  passenger  list. 
If  a  child  in  the  house  is  a  wellspring  of  pleasure, 
then  a  child  on  a  boat  is  nothing  less  than  a  water 
spout.  The  sea  air,  with  its  cool  vapours  of  salt  and 
iodine,  may  lull  the  adult  into  one  continuous  and 
lazy  doze,  but  it  is  an  invigorant  to  the  offspring. 
We  had  on  board  children  from  Buffalo,  Chicago, 
Jamestown,  Poughkeepsie,  Worcester,  Philadelphia, 
and  other  points.  These  children  traded  names  be 
fore  the  steamer  got  away  from  the  dock,  and  as  we 
went  down  the  bay  under  a  bright  sunshine  they 

26 


LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE 

were  so  full  of  emotion  that  they  ran  madly  around 
the  upper  decks,  shrieking  at  every  step.  Nine  full 
laps  on  the  upper  deck  make  a  mile,  and  one  man 
gave  the  opinion  that  the  children  travelled  one  hun 
dred  miles  that  first  afternoon.  This  was  probably 
an  exaggeration. 

The  older  people  lay  at  full  length  in  steamer 
chairs  and  drowsed  like  so  many  hibernating  bears. 
That  is,  they  slept  when  they  were  not  eating.  The 
boat  was  one  of  a  German  line,  and  on  a  German 
boat  the  passenger's  first  duty  is  to  gorge.  In  the 
smoking-room  the  last  night  out  there  was  a  dispute 
as  to  the  number  of  meals,  whole  or  partial,  served 
every  day.  One  man  counted  up  and  made  it  nine. 
Another,  who  was  trying  to  slander  the  company, 
made  the  number  as  low  as  five.  A  count  was  taken 
and  the  following  schedule  was  declared  to  be 
accurate  and  official: 

6  a.  m. — Coffee  and  rolls  in  the  dining  room. 

8  to  10  a.  m. — Breakfast  in  the  dining  room. 
11  a.  m. — Sandwiches  and  bouillon  on  deck. 
12:35  p.  m. — Luncheon. 

4  p.  m. — Cakes  and  lemonade  on  deck. 
6  p.  m. — Dinner. 

9  p.  m. — Supper  (cold)  in  dining  room. 

10  to    11 :30   p.    m. — Sandwiches    (Swiss    cheese, 

27 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

caviar,    tongue,   beef,    cervelat   wurst,   etc.)    in   the 
smoking-room. 

It  will  be  noted  that  anyone  using  ordinary  dili 
gence  is  enabled  to  stay  the  pangs  of  hunger  at 
least  eight  times  a  day.  But  the  company  in  order 
to  cover  all  emergencies,  has  made  the  humane  pro 
vision  that  articles  of  food  may  be  obtained  at  any 
hour,  either  in  the  smoking  room  or  dining  room, 
or  by  giving  the  order  to  a  steward.  It  is  said  that 
geese  being  fattened  for  the  market  or  encouraged 
to  develop  the  liver  are  tied  to  the  ground  so  that 
they  cannot  take  any  harmful  exercise,  and  large 
quantities  of  rich  food  are  then  pushed  into  them  by 
means  of  a  stick.  Anyone  who  has  spent  a  lazy  week 
on  a  German  steamer  can  sympathise  with  the  geese. 

Of  course  we  had  wireless  messages  to  give  us 
an  occasional  throb  of  excitement.  Wireless  teleg 
raphy,  by  the  way,  is  more  or  less  of  an  irritant 
to  the  traveller.  The  man  with  stocks  purchased  and 
lawsuits  pending,  and  all  sorts  of  deals  under  way, 
knows  that  he  can  be  reached  (probably)  in  some 
sort  of  a  zig-zag  manner  by  wireless  telegraphy,  no 
matter  where  he  may  be  on  the  wide  ocean,  and  so, 
most  of  the  time,  he  is  standing  around  on  one  foot 
waiting  for  bad  news.  On  shore  he  doesn't  fret  so 
much  about  possible  calamities,  but  as  soon  as  he 

28 


LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE 

gets  away  from  Sandy  Hook  he  begins  to  draw 
mental  pictures  of  the  mistakes  being  made  by  lunk- 
headed  subordinates,  and  then  he  hangs  around  the 
Marconi  station  up  on  the  sun  deck,  waiting  for  his 
most  horrible  fears  to  be  confirmed. 

In  1895,  during  my  first  voyage  to  Europe,  I 
wrote  the  following  in  one  of  my  letters,  intending  it 
as  a  mild  pleasantry: 

"  Some  day,  perhaps,  there  will  be  invented  a 
device  by  which  ocean  steamers  may  tap  the  Atlantic 
cable  for  news  bulletins  and  stock  quotations,  or 
else  receive  them  by  special  transmission  through 
the  water,  and  then  the  last  refuge  will  be  denied 
the  business  slave  who  is  attempting  to  get  away 
from  his  work." 

And  to  think  that  ten  years  later  the  miracle  of 
shooting  a  message  through  an  open  window  and 
across  five  hundred  miles  of  nothing  but  atmosphere 
has  become  a  tame  and  every-day  occurrence! 

On  the  steamer  I  met  an  old  friend — Mr.  Peasley, 
of  Iowa.  We  first  collided  in  Europe  in  1895,  when 
both  of  us  were  over  for  the  first  time  and  were 
groping  our  way  about  the  Continent  and  pretend 
ing  to  enjoy  ourselves.  About  the  time  I  first  en-, 
countered  Mr.  Peasley  he  had  an  experience  which, 
in  all  probability,  is  without  parallel  in  human  his- 

29 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

tory.  Some  people  to  whom  I  have  told  the  story 
frankly  disbelieved  it,  but  then  they  did  not  know 
Mr.  Peasley.  It  is  all  very  true,  and  it  happened 
as  follows: — 

Mr.  Peasley  had  been  in  Rotterdam  for  two  days, 
and  after  galloping  madly  through  churches,  gal 
leries,  and  museums  for  eight  hours  a  day  he  said 
that  he  had  seen  enough  Dutch  art  to  last  him  a 
million  years,  at  a  very  conservative  estimate,  so  he 
started  for  Brussels.  He  asked  the  proprietor  of  the 
hotel  at  Rotterdam  for  the  name  of  a  good  hotel  in 
Brussels  and  the  proprietor  told  him  to  go  to  the 
Hotel  Victoria.  He  said  it  was  a  first-class  estab 
lishment  and  was  run  by  his  brother-in-law.  Every 
hotel  keeper  in  Europe  has  a  brother-in-law  running 
a  hotel  in  some  other  town. 

Mr.  Peasley  was  loaded  into  a  train  by  watchful 
attendants,  and  as  there  were  no  Englishmen  in  the 
compartment  he  succeeded  in  getting  a  good  seat 
right  by  the  window  and  did  not  have  to  ride  back 
ward.  Very  soon  he  became  immersed  in  one  of  the 
six  best  sellers.  He  read  on  and  on,  chapter  after 
chapter,  not  heeding  the  flight  of  time,  until  the 
train  rolled  into  a  cavernous  train  shed  and  was 
attacked  by  the  usual  energetic  mob  of  porters  and 
hotel  runners.  Mr.  Peasley  looked  out  and  saw  that 

30 


LIFE  ON  THE  OCEAN  WAVE 
they  had  arrived  at  another  large  city.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  platform  was  a  large  and  beautiful  'bus 
marked  "  Hotel  Victoria."  Mr.  Peasley  shrieked  for 
a  porter  and  began  dumping  Gladstone  bags,  steamer 
rugs,  cameras,  and  other  impedimenta  out  through 
the  window.  The  man  from  the  Victoria  put  these 
on  top  of  the  'bus  and  in  a  few  minutes  Mr.  Peas- 
ley  was  riding  through  the  tidy  thoroughfares  and 
throwing  mental  bouquets  at  the  street-cleaning 
department. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  Victoria  he  was  met  by 
the  proprietor,  who  wore  the  frock  coat  and  whis 
kers  which  are  the  world-wide  insignia  of  hospitality. 

"  Your  brother-in-law  in  Rotterdam  told  me  to 
come  here  and  put  up  with  you,"  explained  Mr.  Peas- 
ley.  "  He  said  you  were  running  a  first-class  place, 
which  means,  I  s'pose,  first  class  for  this  country.  If 
you  fellows  over  here  would  *  put  in  steam  heat  and 
bathrooms  and  electric  lights  and  then  give  us  some 
thing  to  eat  in  the  bargain  your  hotels  wouldn't  be 
so  bad.  I  admire  the  stationery  in  your  writing 
rooms,  and  the  regalia  worn  by  your  waiters  is  cer 
tainly  all  right,  but  that's  about  all  I  can  say  for 
you." 

The  proprietor  smiled  and  bowed  and  said  he 
hoped  his  brother-in-law  in  Rotterdam  was  in  good 

31 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

health  and  enjoying  prosperity,  and  Mr.  Peasley  said 
that  he,  personally,  had  left  with  the  brother-in-law 
enough  money  to  run  the  hotel  for  another  six 
months. 

After  Mr.  Peasley  had  been  conducted  to  his  room 
he  dug  up  his  Baedeker  and  very  carefully  read  the 
introduction  to  Brussels.  Then  he  studied  the  map 
for  a  little  while.  He  believed  in  getting  a  good 
general  idea  of  the  lay  of  things  before  he  tackled 
a  new  town.  He  marked  on  the  map  a  few  of  the  show 
places  which  seemed  worth  while,  and  then  he  sallied 
out,  waving  aside  the  smirking  guide  who  attempted 
to  fawn  upon  him  as  he  paused  at  the  main  entrance. 
Mr.  Peasley  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  guides. 
He  always  said  that  the  man  who  had  to  be  led 
around  by  the  halter  would  do  better  to  stay  right 
at  home. 

It  was  a  very  busy  afternoon  for  Mr.  Peasley. 
At  first  he  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  the  places 
that  were  marked  in  red  spots  on  the  map.  This  was 
because  he  had  been  holding  the  map  upside  down. 
By  turning  the  map  the  other  way  and  making  due 
allowance  for  the  inaccuracies  to  be  expected  in  a 
book  written  by  ignorant  foreigners,  the  whole 
ground  plan  of  the  city  straightened  itself  out,  and 
he  boldly  went  his  way.  He  visited  an  old  cathedral 

32 


LIFE  ON  THE  OCEAN  WAVE 
and  two  art  galleries,  reading  long  and  scholarly 
comments  on  the  more  celebrated  masterpieces.  Some 
of  the  paintings  were  not  properly  labelled,  but  he 
knew  that  slipshod  methods  prevailed  in  Europe — 
that  a  civilisation  which  is  on  the  downhill  and  about 
to  play  out  cannot  be  expected  to  breed  a  business 
like  accuracy.  He  wrote  marginal  corrections  in  his 
guide  book  and  doctored  up  the  map  a  little,  several 
streets  having  been  omitted,  and  returned  to  the 
hotel  at  dusk  feeling  very  well  repaid.  From  the 
beginning  of  his  tour  he  had  maintained  that  when 
a  man  goes  out  and  gets  information  or  impressions 
of  his  own  unaided  efforts  he  gets  something  that 
will  abide  with  him  and  become  a  part  of  his  intellec 
tual  and  artistic  fibre.  That  which  is  ladled  into 
him  by  a  verbose  guide  soon  evaporates  or  oozes 
away. 

At  the  table  d'hote  Mr.  Peasley  had  the  good  for 
tune  to  be  seated  next  to  an  Englishman,  to  whom 
he  addressed  himself.  The  Englishman  was  not  very 
communicative,  but  Mr.  Peasley  persevered.  It  was 
his  theory  that  when  one  is  travelling  and  meets  a 
fellow  Caucasian  who  is  shy  or  reticent  or  suspicious 
the  thing  to  do  is  to  keep  on  talking  to  him  until  he 
feels  quite  at  ease  and  the  entente  cordiale  is  fully 
established.  So  Mr.  Peasley  told  the  Englishman  all 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

about  Iowa  and  said  that  it  was  "  God's  country." 
The  Englishman  fully  agreed  with  him — that  is,  if 
silence  gives  consent.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  con 
versation  and  Mr.  Peasley,  seeking  to  give  it  a  new 
turn,  said  to  his  neighbour,  "  I  like  this  town  best  of 
any  I've  seen.  Is  this  your  first  visit  to  Brussels  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  been  to  Brussels,"  replied  the  Eng 
lishman. 

"  That  is,  never  until  this  time,"  suggested  Mr. 
Peasley.  "  I'm  in  the  same  boat.  Just  landed  here 
to-day.  I've  heard  of  it  before,  on  account  of  the 
carpet  coming  from  here,  and  of  course  everybody 
knows  about  Brussels  sprouts,  but  I  had  no  idea 
it  was  such  a  big  place.  It's  bigger  than  Rock  Island 
and  Davenport  put  together." 

The  Englishman  began  to  move  away,  at  the  same 
time  regarding  the  cheerful  Peasley  with  solemn 
wonderment.  Then  he  said: — 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  am  quite  unable  to  follow  you. 
Where  do  you  think  you  are?  " 

"  Brussels — it's  in  Belgium — capital,  same  as  Des 
Moines  in  Iowa." 

"  My  good  man,  you  are  not  in  Brussels.  You  are 
in  Antwerp." 

"  Antwerp !  " 

"  Certainly." 

34 


LIFE    ON    THE    OCEAN    WAVE 

"  Why,   I've   been   all   over   town   to-day,   with   a 

guide   book,   and "  He   paused   and   a  horrible 

suspicion  settled  upon  him.  Arising  from  the  table 
he  rushed  to  the  outer  office  and  confronted  the 
manager. 

"What's  the  name  of  this  town  I'm  in?"  he 
demanded. 

"  Antwerp,"   replied  the  astonished  manager. 

Mr.  Peasley  leaned  against  the  wall  and  gasped. 

"  Well,  I'll  be ! "  he  began,  and  then  language 

failed  him. 

"  You  said  you  had  a  brother-in-law  in  Rotter 
dam,"  he  said,  when  he  recovered  his  voice. 

"  That  is  quite  true." 

"  And  the  Victoria  Hotel — is  there  one  in  Brus 
sels  and  another  in  Antwerp?  " 

"  There  is  a  Victoria  Hotel  in  every  city  in  the 
whole  world.  The  Victoria  Hotel  is  universal — the 
same  as  Scotch  whiskey." 

"  And  I  am  now  in  Antwerp  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly." 

Mr.  Peasley  went  to  his  room.  He  did  not  dare  to 
return  to  face  the  Englishman.  Next  day  he  pro 
ceeded  to  Brussels  and  found  that  he  could  work 
from  the  same  guide  book  just  as  successfully  as  he 
had  in  Antwerp. 

35 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

When  I  met  him  on  the  steamer  he  said  that  during 
all  of  his  travels  since  1895  he  never  had  duplicated 
the  remarkable  experience  at  Antwerp.  As  soon  as 
he  alights  from  a  train  he  goes  right  up  to  someone 
and  asks  the  name  of  the  town. 


CHAPTER    III 

WITH    MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST 
LONDON 

VyE  did  not  expect  to  have  Mr.  Peasley  with  us  in 
London.  He  planned  to  hurry  on  to  Paris,  but  he 
has  been  waiting  here  for  his  trunk  to  catch  up  with 
him.  The  story  of  the  trunk  will  come  later. 

As  we  steamed  into  Plymouth  Harbour  on  a  damp 
and  overcast  Sabbath  morning,  Mr.  Peasley  stood 
on  the  topmost  deck  and  gave  encouraging  informa 
tion  to  a  man  from  central  Illinois  who  was  on  his 
first  trip  abroad.  Mr.  Peasley  had  been  over  for  six 
weeks  in  1895,  and  that  gave  him  license  to  do  the 
"  old  traveller  "  specialty. 

In  beginning  a  story  he  would  say,  "  I  remem 
ber  once  I  was  crossing  on  the  Umbria"  or  possibly, 
"  That  reminds  me  of  a  funny  thing  I  once  saw  in 
Munich."  He  did  not  practise  to  deceive,  and  yet  he 
gave  strangers  the  impression  that  he  had  crossed  on 
the  Umbria  possibly  twelve  or  fourteen  times  and  had 
spent  years  in  Munich. 

The  Illinois  man  looked  up  to  Mr.  Peasley  as  a 
37 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

modern  Marco  Polo,  and  Mr.  Peasley  proceeded  to 
unbend  to  him. 

"  A  few  years  ago  Americans  were  very  unpopu 
lar  in  England,"  said  Mr.  Peasley.  u  Every  one  of 
them  was  supposed  to  have  either  a  dynamite  bomb 
or  a  bunch  of  mining  stock  in  his  pocket.  All  that 
is  changed  now — all  changed.  As  we  come  up  to 
the  dock  in  Plymouth  you  will  notice  just  beyond  the 
station  a  large  triumphal  arch  of  evergreen  bearing 
the  words,  '  Welcome,  Americans  ! '  Possibly  the  band 
will  not  be  out  this  morning,  because  it  is  Sunday 
and  the  weather  is  threatening,  but  the  Reception 
Committee  will  be  on  hand.  If  we  can  take  time  be 
fore  starting  for  London  no  doubt  a  committee  from 
the  Commercial  Club  will  haul  us  around  in  open 
carriages  to  visit  the  public  buildings  and  breweries 
and  other  points  of  interest.  And  you'll  find  that 
your  money  is  counterfeit  out  here.  No  use  talkin', 
we're  all  one  people — just  like  brothers.  Wait  till 
you  get  to  London.  You'll  think  you're  right  back 
among  your  friends  in  Decatur." 

It  was  too  early  in  the  morning  for  the  Reception 
Committee,  but  there  was  a  policeman — one  solitary, 
water-logged,  sad-eyed  policeman — waiting  grew- 
somely  on  the  dock  as  the  tender  came  alongside.  He 
stood  by  the  gangplank  and  scrutinised  us  carefully 

38 


MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON 

as  we  filed  ashore.  The  Illinois  man  looked  about  for 
the  triumphal  arch,  but  could  not  find  it.  Mr.  Peas- 
ley  explained  that  they  had  taken  it  in  on  account 
of  the  rain. 

While  the  passengers  were  kept  herded  into  a 
rather  gloomy  waiting  room,  the  trunks  and  larger 
baggage  were  brought  ashore  and  sorted  out  accord 
ing  to  the  alphabetical  labels  in  an  adjoining  room 
to  await  the  customs  examination.  When  the  doors 
opened  there  was  a  rush  somewhat  like  the  opening 
of  an  Oklahoma  reservation.  In  ten  minutes  the 
trunks  had  been  passed  and  were  being  trundled  out 
to  the  special  train.  Above  the  babel  of  voices  and 
the  rattle  of  wheels  arose  the  sounds  of  lamentation 
and  modified  cuss  words.  Mr.  Peasley  could  not  find 
his  trunk.  It  was  not  with  the  baggage  marked  "  P." 
It  was  not  in  the  boneyard,  or  the  discard,  or  what 
ever  they  call  the  heap  of  unmarked  stuff  piled  up 
at  one  end  of  the  room.  It  was  not  anywhere. 

The  other  passengers,  intent  upon  their  private 
troubles,  pawed  over  their  possessions  and  handed 
out  shillings  right  and  left  and  followed  the  line  of 
trucks  out  to  the  "  luggage  vans,"  and  Mr.  Peasley 
was  left  alone,  still  demanding  his  trunk.  The  sta 
tion  agent  and  many  porters  ran  hither  and  thither, 
looking  into  all  sorts  of  impossible  places,  while  the 

39 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

locomotive  bell  rang  warningly,  and  the  guard 
begged  Mr.  Peasley  to  get  aboard  if  he  wished  to 
go  to  London.  Mr.  Peasley  took  off  his  hat  and  leaned 
his  head  back  and  howled  for  his  trunk.  The  train 


And  howled  for  his  trunk 

started  and  Mr.  Peasley,  after  momentary  inde 
cision,  made  a  running  leap  into  our  midst.  There 
were  six  of  us  in  a  small  padded  cell,  and  five  of  the 
six  listened  for  the  next  fifteen  minutes  to  a  most 

40 


MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON 

picturesque  and  impassioned  harangue  on  the  sub 
ject  of  the  general  inefficiency  of  German  steamships 
and  English  railways. 

"  Evidently  the  trunk  was  not  sent  ashore,"  some 
one  suggested  to  Mr.  Peasley.  "  If  the  trunk  did  not 
come  ashore  you  could  not  reasonably  expect  the 
station  officials  to  find  it  and  put  it  aboard  the 
train." 

"  But  why  didn't  it  come  ashore?  "  demanded  Mr. 
Peasley.  "  Everyone  on  the  boat  knew  that  I  was 
going  to  get  off  at  Plymouth.  It  was  talked  about 
all  the  way  over.  Other  people  got  their  trunks, 
didn't  they?  Have  you  heard  of  any  German 
being  shy  a  trunk?  Has  anybody  else  lost  anything? 
No ;  they  went  over  the  passenger  list  and  said,  '  If 
we  must  hold  out  a  trunk  on  anyone,  let's  hold  it 
out  on  Peasley — old  good  thing  Peasley." 

"  Are  you  sure  it  was  put  on  board  at  Hoboken  ?  " 
he  was  asked. 

"  Sure  thing.  I  checked  it  myself,  or,  rather,  I 
got  a  fellow  that  couldn't  speak  any  English  to 
check  it  for  me.  Then  I  saw  it  lowered  into  the  cel 
lar,  or  the  subway,  or  whatever  they  call  it." 

"  Did  you  get  a  receipt  for  it?  " 

"  You  bet  I  did,  and  right  here  she  is." 

He  brought  out  a  congested  card  case  and  fum- 
41 


MR.  PEASLEY  IN  DARKEST  LONDON 
bled  over  a  lot  of  papers,  and  finally  unfolded  a 
receipt  about  the  size  of  a  one-sheet  poster.  On  top 
was  a  number  and  beneath  it  said  in  red  letters  at 
least  two  inches  tall,  "  This  baggage  has  been 
checked  to  Hamburg." 

We  called  Mr.  Peasley's  attention  to  the  reading 
matter,  but  he  said  it  was  a  mistake,  because  he 
had  been  intending  all  the  time  to  get  off  at  Ply 
mouth. 

"  Nevertheless,  your  trunk  has  gone  to  Ham 
burg." 

"Where  is  Hamburg?" 

"  In  Germany.  The  Teuton  who  checked  your 
baggage  could  not  by  any  effort  of  the  imagination 
conceive  the  possibility  of  a  person  starting  for  any 
where  except  Hamburg.  In  two  days  your  trunk  will 
be  lying  on  a  dock  in  Germany." 

"  Well,  there's  one  consolation,"  observed  Mr. 
Peasley ;  "  the  clothes  in  that  trunk  won't  fit  any 
German." 

When  he  arrived. in  London  he  began  wiring  for 
his  trunk  in  several  languages.  After  two  days  came 
a  message  couched  in  Volapuk  or  some  other  hybrid 
combination,  which  led  him  to  believe  that  his  prop 
erty  had  been  started  for  London. 

Mr.  Peasley  spent  a  week  in  the  world's  metropolis 
43 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

with  no  clothes  except  a  knockabout  travelling  out 
fit  and  what  he  called  his  "  Tuxedo,"  although,  over 
here  they  say  "  dinner  jacket."  In  Chicago  or 
Omaha  Mr.  Peasley  could  have  got  along  for  a  week 
without  any  embarrassment  to  himself  or  others. 
Even  in  New  York  the  "  Tuxedo  "  outfit  would  have 
carried  him  through,  for  it  is  regarded  as  a  passable 
apology  for  evening  dress,  provided  the  wearer 
wishes  to  advertise  himself  as  a  lonesome  "  stag." 
But  in  London  there  is  no  compromise.  In  every 
hotel  lobby  or  dining-room,  every  restaurant,  theatre 
or  music  hall,  after  the  coagulated  fog  of  the  day 
time  settles  into  the  opaque  gloom  of  night,  there  is 
but  one  style  of  dress  for  any  mortal  who  does  not 
wish  to  publicly  pose  as  a  barbarian.  The  man  who 
affects  a  "  Tuxedo  "  might  as  well  wear  a  sweater. 
In  fact  it  would  be  better  for  him  if  he  did  wear  a 
sweater,  for  then  people  would  understand  that  he 
was  making  no  effort  to  dress ;  but  when  he  puts  on 
a  bobtail  he  conveys  the  impression  that  he  is  trying 
to  be  correct  and  doesn't  understand  the  rules. 

An  Englishman  begins  to  blossom  about  half -past 
seven  p.  M.  The  men  seen  in  the  streets  during  the 
day  seem  a  pretty  dingy  lot  compared  with  a  well- 
dressed  stream  along  Fifth  Avenue.  Many  of  the  tall 
hats  bear  a  faithful  resemblance  to  fur  caps.  The 

44 


MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON 
trousers  bag  and  the  coat  collars  are  bunched  in  the 

% 

rear  and  all  the  shoes  seem  about  two  sizes  too  large. 
Occasionally  you  see  a  man  on  his  way  to  a  train 
and  he  wears  a  shapeless  bag  of  a  garment  made  of 
some  loosely  woven  material  that  looks  like  gunny- 
sack,  with  a  cap  that  resembles  nothing  so  much  as 


"  Dressed  down  "  and  "  Dressed  up  " 

a  welsh  rabbit  that  has  "  spread."  To  complete  the 
picture,  he  carries  a  horse  blanket.  He  thinks  it  is 
a  rug,  but  it  isn't.  It  is  a  horse  blanket. 

If  the  Englishman  dressed  for  travel  is  the  most 
45 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

sloppy  of  all  civilised  beings,  so  the  Englishman  in 
his  night  regalia  is  the  most  correct  and  irreproach 
able  of  mortals.  He  can  wear  evening  clothes  with 
out  being  conscious  of  the  fact  that  he  is  "  dressed 
up."  The  trouble  with  the  ordinary  American  who 
owns  an  open-faced  suit  is  that  he  wears  it  only 
about  once  a  month.  For  two  days  before  assuming 
the  splendour  of  full  dress  he  broods  over  the  ap 
proaching  ordeal.  As  the  fateful  night  draws  near 
he  counts  up  his  studs  and  investigates  the  "  white 
vest "  situation.  In  the  deep  solitude  of  his  room 
he  mournfully  climbs  into  the  camphor-laden  gar 
ments,  and  when  he  is  ready  to  venture  forth,  a  tall 
collar  choking  him  above,  the  glassy  shoes  pinching 
him  below,  he  is  just  as  much  at  ease  as  he  would  be 
in  a  full  suit  of  armour,  with  casque  and  visor. 

However,  all  this  is  off  the  subject.  Here  was  Mr. 
Peasley  in  London,  desirous  of  "  cutting  a  wide 
gash,"  as  he  very  prettily  termed  it,  plenty  of  good 
money  from  Iowa  burning  in  his  pocket,  and  he  could 
not  get  out  and  "  associate  "  because  of  a  mere. defi 
ciency  in  clothing. 

At  the  first-class  theatres  his  "  bowler  "  hat  con 
demned  him  and  he  was  sent  into  the  gallery.  When 
he  walked  into  a  restaurant  the  head  waiter  would 
give  him  one  quick  and  searching  glance  and  then 

46 


MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON 

put  him  off  in  some  corner,  behind  a  palm.  Even  in 
the  music  halls  the  surrounding  "  Johnnies "  re 
garded  him  with  wonder  as  another  specimen  of  the 
eccentric  Yankee. 

We   suggested   to   Mr.   Peasley   that   he   wear   a 


His  bowler  hat  condemned  him 

placard  reading  "  I  have  some  clothes,  but  my  trunk 
is  in  Hamburg."  He  said  that  as  soon  as  his  swell 
duds  arrived  he  was  going  to  put  them  on  and  revisit 
all  of  the  places  at  which  he  had  been  humiliated  and 

47 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

turned  down,  just  to  let  the  flunkeys  know  that  the;y 
had  been  mistaken. 

Mr.  Peasley  was  greatly  rejoiced  to  learn  one  day 
that  he  could  attend  a  football  game  without  wear 
ing  a  special  uniform.  So  he  went  out  to  see  a  non- 
brutal  game  played  according  to  the  Association 
rules.  The  gentle  pastime  known  as  football  in 
America  is  a  modification  and  overdevelopment  of 
the  Rugby  game  as  played  in  Great  Britain.  The 
Association,  or  "  Seeker  "  game,  which  is  now  being 
introduced  in  the  United  States  as  a  counter-irritant 
for  the  old-fashioned  form  of  manslaughter,  is  by 
far  the  more  popular  in  England.  The  Rugby  Asso 
ciation  is  waning  in  popularity,  not  because  of  any 
outcry  against  the  character  of  the  play  or  any  talk 
of  "  brutality,"  but  because  the  British  public  has 
a  more  abiding  fondness  for  the  Association  game. 

In  America  we  think  we  are  football  crazy  because 
we  have  a  few  big  college  games  during  October  and 
November  of  each  year.  In  Great  Britain  the  foot 
ball  habit  is  something  that  abides,  the  same  as  the 
tea  habit. 

We  are  hysterical  for  about  a  month  and  then  we 
forget  the  game  unless  we  belong  to  the  minority 
that  is  trying  to  debrutalise  it  and  reduce  the  death 
rate. 

48 


MR.  PEASLEY  IN  DARKEST  LONDON 
Here  it  was,  February  in  London,  and  on  the  first 
Saturday  after  our  arrival  forty-five  Association 
games  and  thirty-eight  Rugby  games  were  reported 
in  the  London  papers.  At  sixteen  of  the  principal 
Association  games  the  total  attendance  was  over  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  and  the  actual  receipts 
at  these  same  games  amounted  to  about  $45,000. 
There  were  two  games  at  each  of  which  the  attend 
ance  was  over  thirty  thousand,  with  the  receipts  ex 
ceeding  $5,000.  A  very  conservative  estimate  of  the 
total  attendance  at  the  games  played  on  this  Satur 
day  would  be  five  hundred  thousand.  In  other  words, 
on  one  Saturday  afternoon  in  February  the  attend 
ance  at  football  games  was  equal  to  the  total 
attendance  at  all  of  the  big  college  games  during  an 
entire  season  in  the  United  States.  No  wonder  that 
the  English  newspapers  are  beginning  to  ask  editori 
ally  "Is  football  a  curse?"  There  is  no  clamour 
regarding  the  roughness  of  the  game,  but  it  is  said 
to  cost  too  much  money  and  to  take  up  too  much 
time  for  the  benefits  derived. 

The  game  to  which  Mr.  Peasley  conducted  us  was 
played  in  rather  inclement  weather — that  is,  inclem 
ent  London  weather — which  means  that  it  was  the 
most  terrible  day  that  the  imagination  can  picture — 
a  dark,  chilly,  drippy  day,  with  frequent  downpours. 

49 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

It  has  been  said  that  one  cannot  obtain  icewater  in 
London.  This  is  a  mistake.  We  obtained  it  by  the 
hogshead. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  weather  was  bad  be 
yond  description,  seventeen  thousand  spectators 
attended  the  game  and  saw  it  through  to  a  watery 
finish. 

Mr.  Peasley  looked  on  and  was  much  disappointed. 
He  said  they  used  too  many  players  and  the  number 
of  fatalities  was  not  at  all  in  keeping  with  the  ad 
vertised  importance  of  the  game.  It  was  a  huge 
crowd,  but  the  prevailing  spirit  of  solemnity  worried 
Mr.  Peasley.  He  spoke  to  a  native  standing  along 
side  of  him  and  asked : — "  What's  the  matter  with 
you  folks  over  here?  Don't  you  know  how  to  back 
up  a  team?  Where  are  all  of  your  flags  and  ribbons, 
your  tally-hos  and  tin  horns?  Is  this  a  football  game 
or  a  funeral?  " 

"  Why  should  one  wear  ribbons  at  a  football 
game?  "  asked  the  Englishman. 

"  Might  as  well  put  a  little  ginger  into  the  exer 
cises,"  suggested  Mr.  Peasley.  "  Do  you  sing  during 
the  game?  " 

"  Heavens,  no.  Sing?  Why  should  one  sing  dur 
ing  a  football  game?  In  what  manner  is  vocal  music 
related  to  an  outdoor  pastime  of  this  character?  " 

50 


MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON 

"  You  ought  to  go  to  a  game  in  Iowa  City.  We 
sing  till  we're  black  in  the  face — all  about  '  Eat  'em 
up,  boys,'  *  Kill  'em  in  their  tracks,'  and  '  Buck 
through  the  line.'  What's  the  use  of  coming  to  a 
game  if  you  stand  around  all  afternoon  and  don't 
take  part  ?  Have  you  got  any  yells  ?  " 

"What  are  those?" 

"Can  you  beat  that?"  asked  Mr.  Peasley,  turn 
ing  to  us.  "  A  football  game  without  any  yells !  " 

The  game  started.  By  straining  our  eyes  we  could 
make  out  through  the  deep  gloom  some  thirty  ener 
getic  young  men,  very  lightly  clad,  splashing  about 
in  all  directions,  and  kicking  in  all  sorts  of  aimless 
directions.  Mr.  Peasley  said  it  was  a  mighty  poor 
excuse  for  football.  No  one  was  knocked  out;  there 
was  no  bucking  the  line ;  there  didn't  even  seem  to  be 
a  doctor  in  evidence.  We  could  not  follow  the  fine 
points  of  the  contest.  Evidently  some  good  plays 
were  being  made,  for  occasionally  a  low,  growling 
sound — a  concerted  murmur — would  arise  from  the 
multitude  banked  along  the  side  lines. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  that  sound  they  are 
making?  "  asked  Mr.  Peasley,  turning  to  the  native 
standing  alongside  of  him. 

"  They  are  cheering,"  was  the  reply. 

"They  are  what?  " 

51 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

"  Cheering." 

"Great  Scott!  Do  you  call  that  cheering?  At 
home,  when  we  want  to  encourage  the  boys  we  get 
up  on  our  hind  legs  and  make  a  noise  that  you  can 
hear  in  the  next  township.  We  put  cracks  in  the 
azure  dome.  Cheering!  Why,  a  game  of  croquet  in 
the  court  house  yard  is  eight  times  as  thrilling  as 
this  thing.  Look  at  those  fellows  juggling  the  ball 
with  their  feet.  Why  doesn't  somebody  pick  it  up 
and  butt  through  that  crowd  and  start  a  little  rough 
work?" 

The  native  gave  Mr.  Peasley  one  hopeless  look 
and  moved  away. 

We  could  not  blame  our  companion  for  being  dis 
appointed  over  the  cheering.  An  English  cheer  is 
not  the  ear-splitting  demoniacal  shriek,  such  as  an 
American  patriot  lets  out  when  he  hears  from 
another  batch  of  precincts. 

The  English  cheer  is  simply  a  loud  grunt,  or 
a  sort  of  guttural  "  Hey !  hey !  "  or  "  Hurray !  " 

When  an  English  crowd  cheers  the  sound  is  similar 
to  that  made  by  a  Roman  mob  in  the  wings  of  a 
theatre. 

After  having  once  heard  the  "  cheering  "  one  can 
understand  the  meaning  of  a  passage  in  the  Parlia 
mentary  report,  reading  about  as  follows :  "  The 

52 


MR.    PEASLEY    IN    DARKEST    LONDON 

gentleman  hoped  the  house  would  not  act  with  haste. 
(Cheers).  He  still  had  confidence  in  the  committee 
(cheers),  but  would  advise  a  careful  consideration 
(cheers),  etc." 

It  might  be  supposed  from  such  a  report  that 
Parliament  was  one  continuous  "  rough  house,"  but 
we  looked  in  one  day  and  it  is  more  like  a  cross 
between  a  Presbyterian  synod  and  bee-keepers' 
convention. 

About  four  o'clock  we  saw  a  large  section  of  the 
football  crowd  moving  over  toward  a  booth  at  one 
end  of  the  grounds.  Mr.  Peasley  hurried  after  them, 
thinking  that  possibly  someone  had  started  a  fight 
on  the  side  and  that  his  love  of  excitement  might 
be  gratified  after  all.  Presently  he  returned  in  a 
state  of  deep  disgust. 

"  Do  you  know  why  all  those  folks  are  flockin' 
over  there?  "  he  asked.  "  Goin'  after  their  tea.  Tea! 
Turnin'  their  backs  on  a  football  game  to  go  and 
get  a  cup  of  tea !  Why,  that  tea  thing  over  there  is 
worse  than  the  liquor  habit.  Do  you  know,  when  the 
final  judgment  day  comes  and  Gabriel  blows  his 
horn  and  all  of  humanity  is  bunched  up,  waitin'  for 
the  sheep  to  be  cut  out  from  the  goats  and  put  into  a 
separate  corral,  some  Englishman  will  look  at  his 
watch  and  discover  that  it's  five  o'clock  and  then  the 

53 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

whole  British  nation  will  turn  its  back  on  the  pro 
ceedings  and  go  off  looking  for  tea." 

After  we  had  stood  in  the  rain  for  about  an  hour 
someone  told  Mr.  Peasley  that  one  team  or  the  other 
had  won  by  three  goals  to  nothing,  and  we  followed 
the  moist  throng  out  through  the  big  gates. 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  Mr.  Peasley,  "  and  I  will 
take  you  to  the  only  dry  place  in  London." 

So  we  descended  to  the  "  tuppenny  tube." 


CHAPTER  IV 

HOW  IT  FEELS  TO  GET  INTO  LONDON 
AND  THEN  BE  ENGULFED. 

ONE  good  thing  about  London  is  that,  in  spite  of 
its  enormous  size,  you  are  there  when  you  arrive. 
Take  Chicago,  by  way  of  contrast.  If  you  arrive 
in  Chicago  along  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon 
you  may  be  at  the  station  by  night. 

The  stranger  heading  into  Chicago  looks  out  of 
the  window  at  a  country  station  and  sees  a  police 
man  standing  on  the  platform.  Beyond  is  a  sign 
indicating  that  the  wagon  road  winding  away  to 
ward  the  sunset  is  287th  street,  or  thereabouts. 

"  We  are  now  in  Chicago,"  says  someone  who  has 
been  over  the  road  before. 

The  traveller,  surprised  to  learn  that  he  has  arrived 
at  his  destination,  puts  his  magazine  and  travelling 
cap  into  the  valise,  shakes  out  his  overcoat,  calls  on 
the  porter  to  come  and  brush  him,  and  then  sits 
on  the  end  of  the  seat  waiting  for  the  brakeman  to 
announce  the  terminal  station.  After  a  half-hour 

55 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

of  intermittent  suburbs  and  glorious  sweeps  of  vir 
gin  prairie  he  begins  to  think  that  there  is  some 
mistake,  so  he  opens  his  valise  and  takes  out  the 
magazine  and  reads  another  story. 

Suddenly  he  looks  out  of  the  window  and  notices 
that  the  train  has  entered  the  crowded  city.  He 
puts  on  his  overcoat,  picks  up  his  valise  and  stands 
in  the  aisle,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  step  right  off  as 
soon  as  the  train  stops. 

The  train  passes  street  after  street  and  rattles 
through  grimy  yards  and  past  towering  elevators, 
and  in  ten  minutes  the  traveller  tires  of  standing  and 
goes  back  to  his  seat.  The  porter  comes  and  brushes 
him  again,  and  he  looks  out  at  several  viaducts  lead 
ing  over  to  a  skyline  of  factories  and  breweries, 
and  begins  to  see  the  masts  of  ships  poking  up  in  the 
most  unexpected  places.  At  last,  when  he  has  looked 
at  what  seems  to  be  one  hundred  miles  of  architec 
tural  hash  floating  in  smoke  and  has  begun  to  doubt 
that  there  is  a  terminal  station^  he  hears  the  welcome 
call,  "Shuh-kawgo!" 

When  you  are  London  bound  the  train  leaves  the 
green  country  (for  the  country  is  green,  even  in 
February),  dashes  into  a  region  of  closely  built 
streets,  and  you  look  out  from  the  elevated  train 
across  an  endless  expanse  of  chimney-pots.  Two  or 

56 


ENGULFED    IN    LONDON 

three  stations,  plated  with  enameled  advertising 
signs,  buzz  past.  The  pall  of  smoky  fog  becomes 
heavier  and  the  streets  more  crowded.  Next,  the 
train  has  come  to  a  grinding  stop  under  a  huge 
vaulted  roof.  The  noise  of  the  wheels  give  way  to 
the  roar  of  London  town. 

You  step  down  and  out  and  fall  into  the  arms  of 
a  porter  who  wishes  to  carry  your  "  bags."  You  are 
in  the  midst  of  parallel  tracks  and  shifting  trains. 
Beyond  the  platform  is  a  scramble  of  cabs.  The 
sounds  of  the  busy  station  are  joined  into  a  deafen 
ing  monotone.  You  shout  into  the  ear  of  your  travel 
ling  companion  to  get  a  "  four-wheeler  "  while  you 
watch  the  trunks. 

He  struggles  away  to  hail  a  four-wheeler.  You 
push  your  way  with  the  others  down  toward  the 
front  of  the  train  to  where  the  baggage  is  being 
thrown  out  on  the  platform.  You  seize  a  porter  and 
engage  him  to  attend  to  the  handling  of  the  trunks. 
As  you  point  them  out  he  loads  them  onto  a  truck. 
Your  companion  arrives  in  a  wild-eyed  search  for 
you. 

"  I've  got  a  four-wheeler,"  he  gasps.  "  All  the 
baggage  here?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes." 

Everybody  is  excited  and  hopping  about,  put 
57 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

into  a  state  of  hysteria  by  the  horrible  hubbub  and 
confusion. 

"  It's  number  48." 

The  porter  handling  the  truck  leads  the  way  to 
the  cab  platform  and  howls  "  Forty-ite !  Forty-ite !  " 

"  'Ere  you  are,"  shouts  forty-eight,  who  is  wedged 
in  behind  two  hansoms. 

By  some  miracle  of  driving  he  gets  over  or  under 
or  past  the  hansoms  and  comes  to  the  platform.  The 
steamer  trunks  are  thrown  on  top  and  the  porter, 
accepting  the  shilling  with  a  "  'k  you,  sir,"  slams 
the  door  behind  you. 

Then  you  can  hear  your  driver  overhead  man 
aging  his  way  out  of  the  blockade. 

"  Pull  a  bit  forward,  cahn't  you?  "  he  shouts.  Then 
to  someone  else,  "  'Urry  up,  'urry  up,  cahn't  you?  " 

You  are  in  a  tangle  of  wheels  and  lamps,  but  you 
get  out  of  it  in  some  way,  and  then  the  rubber  tires 
roll  easily  along  the  spattering  pavement  of  a  street 
which  seems  heavenly  quietude. 

This  is  the  time  to  lean  back  and  try  to  realise 
that  you  are  in  London.  The  town  may  be  common 
and  time-worn  to  those  people  going  in  and  out  of 
the  shops,  but  to  you  it  is  a  storehouse  of  novelties, 
a  library  of  things  to  be  learned,  a  museum  of  the 
landmarks  of  history. 

58 


ENGULFED    IN    LONDON 

We  could  read  the  names  on  the  windows,  and  they 
were  good  homely  Anglo-Saxon  names.  We  didn't 
have  to  get  out  of  the  four-wheeler  and  go  into  the 
shops  to  convince  ourselves  that  Messrs.  Brown, 
Jones,  Simpson,  Perkins,  Jackson,  Smith,  Thompson, 
Williams,  and  the  others  were  serious  men  of  defer 
ential  habits,  who  spoke  in  hollow  whispers  of  the 
king,  drank  tea  at  intervals  and  loved  a  pipe  of 
tobacco  in  the  garden  of  a  Sunday  morning. 

Some  people  come  to  London  to  see  the  Abbey  and 
the  Tower,  but  I  fear  that  our  trusty  little  band 
came  to  see  the  shop  windows  and  the  crowds  in  the 
streets. 

May  the  weak  and  imitative  traveller  resist  the 
temptation  to  say  that  Fleet  street  is  full  of  publish 
ing  houses,  that  the  British  museum  deserves  many 
visits,  that  the  Cheshire  Cheese  is  one  of  the  ancient 
taverns,  that  the  new  monument  in  front  of  the 
Courts  of  Law  marks  the  site  of  old  Temple  Bar, 
that  the  chapel  of  King  Henry  VII.  is  a  superb 
example  of  its  own  style  of  decoration,  and  that 
one  is  well  repaid  for  a  trip  to  Hampton  Court.  Why 
seek  to  corroborate  the  testimony  of  so  many  letter- 
writers  ? 

Besides,  London  does  not  consist  of  towers,  abbeys, 
and  museums.  These  are  the  remote  and  infrequent 

59 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

things.  After  you  have  left  London  and  try  to  call 
back  the  huge  and  restless  picture  to  your  mind,  the 
show  places  stand  dimly  in  the  background.  The 
London  which  impressed  you  and  made  you  feel 
your  own  littleness  and  weakness  was  an  endless 
swarm  of  people  going  and  coming,  eddying  off  into 
dark  courts,  streaming  toward  you  along  sudden 
tributaries,  whirling  in  pools  at  the  open  places, 
such  as  Piccadilly  Circus  and  Trafalgar  Square. 
Thousands  of  hansom  cabs  dashed  in  and  out  of 
the  street  traffic,  and  the  rattling  omnibuses  moved 
along  every  street  in  a  broken  row,  and  no  matter 
how  long  you  remained  in  London  you  never  saw  the 
end  of  that  row. 

You  go  out  in  London  in  the  morning,  and  if  you 
have  no  set  programme  to  hamper  you,  you  make 
your  way  to  one  of  those  great  chutes  along  which 
the  herds  of  humanity  are  forever  driven. 

If  you  follow  the  guide-book  it  will  lead  you  to  a 
chair  in  which  a  king  sat  300  years  ago.  If  you  can 
get  up  an  emotion  by  straining  hard  enough  and  find 
a  real  pleasure  in  looking  at  the  moth-eaten  chair, 
then  you  should  follow  the  guide-book.  If  not,  es 
cape  from  the  place  and  go  to  the  street.  The  men 
and  women  you  find  there  will  interest  you.  They 
are  on  deck.  The  chair  is  a  dead  splinter  of  his- 

60 


ENGULFED    IN    LONDON 

tory.  All  the  people  in  the  street  are  the  embodi 
ment  of  that  history.  For  purposes  of  actual  obser 
vation  I  would  rather  encounter  a  live  cabman  than 
the  intangible,  atmospheric  suggestion  of  Queen 
Elizabeth. 

After  you  have  been  in  London  once  you  under 
stand  why  your  friends  who  have  visited  it  before 
were  never  able  to  tell  you  about  it  so  that  you 
could  understand.  It  is  too  big  to  be  put  under  one 
focus.  The  traveller  takes  home  only  a  few  idiotic 
details  of  his  stay.  He  says  that  he  had  to  pay  for 
his  programme  at  the  theatre,  and  that  he  couldn't 
get  ice  at  some  of  the  restaurants. 

"  But  tell  us  about  London,"  says  the  insistent 
friend  who  has  constructed  a  London  of  his  own  out 
of  a  thousand  impressions  gathered  from  books  and 
magazines.  Then  the  traveller  says  that  London  is 
large,  he  doesn't  remember  how  many  millions,  and 
very  busy,  and  there  wasn't  as  much  fog  as  he  had 
expected,  and  as  for  the  people  they  were  not  so 
much  different  from  Americans,  although  you  never 
had  any  difficulty  in  identifying  an  American  in 
London.  The  traveller's  friends  listen  in  disappoint 
ment  and  agree  that  he  got  very  little  out  of  his 
trip,  and  that  when  they  go  to  London  they  will 
come  back  and  tell  people  the  straight  of  it. 

61 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  London  is  principally  a  sense 
of  dizziness.  This  dizziness  comes  of  trying  to  keep 
an  intent  gaze  on  too  many  human  performances. 
The  mind  is  in  a  blur.  The  impressions  come  with 
rolling  swiftness.  There  is  no  room  for  them.  The 
traveller  overflows  with  them.  They  spill  behind  him. 
You  could  track  an  American  all  around  London  by 
the  trail  of  excess  information  which  he  drops  in 
his  pathway. 

Of  course,  I  have  kept  a  journal,  but  that  doesn't 
help  much.  It  simply  says  that  we  went  out  each  day 
and  then  came  back  to  the  hotel  for  dinner.  There 
was  not  much  chance  for  personal  experiences,  be 
cause  in  London  you  are  not  a  person.  You  are 
simply  a  drop  of  water  in  a  sea,  and  any  molecular 
disturbances  which  may  concern  you  are  of  small 
moment  compared  to  the  general  splasho 


CHAPTER   V 

AS   TO   THE   IMPORTANCE   OF   THE   PASS 
PORT    AND    THE    HANDY    LITTLE 
CABLE  CODE 

ADVICE  to  those  following  along  behind.  Stock 
up  on  heavy  flannels  and  do  not  bother  about  a 
passport. 

Before  we  became  old  and  hardened  travellers  we 
were  led  to  believe  that  any  American  who  appeared 
at  a  frontier  without  a  passport  would  be  hurried 
to  a  dungeon  or  else  marched  in  the  snow  all  the 
way  to  Siberia. 

When  I  first  visited  the  eastern  hemisphere  (I  do 
love  to  recall  the  fact  that  I  have  been  over  here 
before),  our  little  company  of  travellers  prepared 
for  European  experiences  by  reading  a  small  hand 
book  of  advice.  The  topics  were  arranged  alpha 
betically,  and  the  specific  information  set  out  under 
each  heading  was  more  valuable  and  impressive  at 
the  beginning  of  the  trip  than  it  was  after  we  had 
come  home  and  read  it  in  the  cold  light  of  ex- 

63 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

perience.  We  paid  particular  heed  to  the  fol 
lowing  : 

"PASSPORTS — Every  American  travelling  in 
Europe  should  carry  a  passport.  At  many  frontiers 
a  passport,  properly  '  vised,'  must  be  shown  before 
the  traveller  will  be  allowed  to  enter  the  country.  A 
passport  is  always  valuable  as  an  identification 
when  money  is  to  be  drawn  on  a  letter  of  credit. 
Very  often  it  will  secure  for  the  bearer  admission  to 
palaces,  galleries  and  other  show  places  which  are 
closed  to  the  general  public.  It  is  the  most  ready 
answer  to  any  police  inquiry,  and  will  serve  as  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  all  consular  offices." 

We  read  the  foregoing  and  sent  for  passports 
before  we  bought  our  steamship  tickets. 

I  have  been  a  notary  public;  I  have  graduated 
from  a  highschool;  I  have  taken  out  accident  insur 
ance,  and  once,  in  a  careless  moment,  I  purchased  one 
thousand  shares  of  mining  stock.  In  each  instance  I 
received  a  work  of  art  on  parchment — something 
bold  and  black  and  Gothic,  garnished  with  gold  seals 
and  curly-cues.  But  for  splendour  of  composition  and 
majesty  of  design,  the  passport  makes  all  other  im 
portant  documents  seem  pale  and  pointless.  There 
is  an  American  eagle  at  the  top,  with  his  trousers 
turned  up,  and  beneath  is  a  bold  pronouncement  to 


PASSPORT    AND    CABLE    CODE 

the  world  in  general  that  the  bearer  is  an  Ameri 
can  citizen,  entitled  to  everything  that  he  can  afford 
to  buy.  No  man  can  read  his  own  passport  without 
being  more  or  less  stuck  on  himself.  I  never  had  a 
chance  to  use  the  one  given  to  me  years  ago,  but 
I  still  keep  it  and  read  it  once  in  a  while  to  bolster 
up  my  self-respect. 

When  we  first  landed  at  Liverpool  each  man  had 
his  passport  in  his  inside  coat  pocket  within  easy 
reach,  so  that  in  case  of  an  insult  or  an  imperti 
nent  question  he  could  flash  it  forth  and  say :  "  Stand 
back !  I  am  an  American  citizen !  "  After  a  week  in 
London  we  went  to  the  bank  to  draw  some  more 
money.  The  first  man  handed  in  his  letter  of  credit 
and  said :  "  If  necessary,  I  have  a  pass " 

Before  he  could  say  any  more  the  cashier  reached 
out  a  little  scoop  shovel  loaded  with  sovereigns  and 
said :  "  Twenty  pounds,  sir." 

We  never  could  find  a  banker  who  wanted  to  look 
at  our  passports  or  who  could  be  induced  to  take 
so  much  as  a  glance  at  them.  I  said  to  one  banker: 
"  We  have  our  passports  in  case  you  require  any 
identification."  He  said :  "  Rully,  it  isn't  necessary, 
you  know.  I  am  quite  sure  that  you  are  from 
Chicago." 

We  couldn't  determine  whether  this  was  sheer 
65 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

courtesy    on    his    part    or    whether    we    were    dif 
ferent. 

After  we  were  on  the  continent  we  hoped  that 
some  policeman  would  come '  to  the  hotel  and  in 
vestigate  us,  so  that  we  could  smile  coolly  and  say : 
"  Look  at  that,"  at  the  same  time  handing  him  the 
blue  envelope.  Then  to  note  his  dismay  and  to  have 
him  apologise  and  back  out.  But  the  police  never 
learned  that  we  were  in  town. 

As  for  the  art  galleries  and  palaces,  we  had  be 
lieved  the  handbook.  We  fancied  that  some  day  or 
other  one  of  us  would  approach  the  entrance  to  a 
palace  and  that  a  gendarme  would  step  out  and  say : 
"  Pardon,  monsieur,  but  the  palace  is  closed  to  all 
visitors  to-day." 

"  To  most  visitors,  you  mean." 

"  To  all,  monsieur." 

"  I  think  not,  do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  No,  monsieur." 

"  Then  don't  say  a  word  about  anything  being 
closed  until  you  find  out.  I  am  an  American.  Here  is 
my  passport.  Fling  open  the  doors !  " 

At  which  the  gendarme  would  prostrate  himself 
and  the  American  would  pass  in,  while  a  large  body 
of  English,  French  and  German  tourists  would  stand 
outside  and  envy  him. 

66 


PASSPORT    AND    CABLE    CODE 

Alas,  it  was  a  day-dream.  Every  palace  that  was 
closed  seemed  to  be  really  closed,  and  when  we  did 
find  the  gendarme  who  was  to  be  humiliated,  we  dis 
covered  that  we  couldn't  speak  his  language,  and, 
besides,  we  felt  so  humble  in  his  presence  that  we 
wouldn't  have  ventured  to  talk  to  him  under  any 
circumstances. 

We  travelled  in  England,  Ireland,  Holland,  Bel 
gium,  Germany,  Switzerland,  Italy,  and  France, 
crossing  and  recrossing  frontiers,  and  we  never  en 
countered  a  man,  woman  or  child  who  would  consent 
to  look  at  our  passports. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  cable  code  is  something 
that  no  tourist  should  be  without.  Whenever  he  is 
feeling  blue  or  downcast  he  can  open  the  code  book 
and  get  a  few  hearty  laughs.  Suppose  he  wishes  to 
send  a  message  to  his  brother  in  Toledo.  The  code 
permits  him  to  concentrate  his  message  into  the 
tabloid  form  and  put  a  long  newsy  letter  into  two 
or  three  words.  He  opens  the  blue  book  and  finds  that 
he  can  send  any  of  the  following  tidings  to  Toledo : 

Adjunctio — Apartments  required  are  engaged  and 
will  be  ready  for  occupation  on  Wednesday. 

Amalior — Bills  of  lading  -have  not  been  endorsed. 

Animatio — Twins,  boy  and  girl,  all  well. 

Collaria — Received  invitation  to  dinner  and  theatre. 
67 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Illaqueo — Have  a  fly  at  the  station  to  meet  train 
arriving  at  eight  o'clock. 

Napma — Machinery  out  of  order.  Delay  will  be 
great. 

Remissus — Can  you  obtain  good  security? 

And  so  on,  page  after  page.  Theoretically,  this 
vest  pocket  volume  is  a  valuable  helpmate,  but  when 
Mr.  Peasley  wanted  to  cable  Iowa  to  have  his  Masonic 
dues  paid  and  let  Bill  Levison  take  the  river  farm 
for  another  year  and  try  to  collect  the  money  from 
Joe  Spillers,  the  code  book  did  not  seem  to  have 
the  proper  equivalents. 

We  had  with  us  on  the  boat  an  American  who 
carried  a  very  elaborate  code  book.  All  the  way  up 
from  Plymouth  to  London  he  was  working  on  a  cable 
gram  to  his  wife.  When  he  turned  it  over  to  the  oper 
ator,  this  is  the  joyous  message  that  went  singing 
through  the  water  back  to  New  York: 

"  LIZCAM,  New  York.  Hobgoblin  buckwheat  ex 
plosion  manifold  cranberry  suspicious. 

«  JAMES." 

He  showed  us  a  copy  and  seemed  to  be  very  proud 
of  it. 

"  That's  what  you  save  by  having  a  code,"  he 
explained. 

68 


PASSPORT    AND    CABLE    CODE 

"  What  will  Lizcam  think  when  he  receives 
that?" 

"  He?  That's  my  wife's  registered  cable  address. 
*  Liz '  for  Lizzie  and  '  Cam '  for  Campbell.  Her 
maiden  name  was  Lizzie  Campbell." 

"  Well,  what  does  that  mean  about  a  buckwheat 
hobgoblin  having  a  suspicious  explosion  ?  " 

"  Oh,  those  words  are  selected  arbitrarily  to  repre 
sent  full  sentences  in  the  code.  When  my  wife  gets 
that  cable  she  will  look  up  those  words  one  after 
the  other  and  elaborate  the  message  so  that  it  will 
read  like  this : 

He  showed  us  the  following: 

"  Mrs.  Chauncey  Cupple,  Mount  Joy  Hotel,  New 

York Dear  Wife :  Well,  here  we  are  at  London, 

after  a  very  pleasant  voyage,  all  things  considered. 
We  had  only  two  days  of  inclement  weather  and  I 
was  not  seasick  at  any  time.  We  saw  a  great  many 
porpoises,  but  no  whales.  The  third  day  out  I  won  the 
pool  on  the  run.  Formed  the  acquaintance  of  several 
pleasant  people.  (Signed)  James." 

"  It's  just  as  good  as  a  letter,"  said  the  man  from 
Buffalo. 

"  Yes,  and  I  save  fifty-eight  words,"  said  Cupple. 
;<  I  wouldn't  travel  without  a  code." 

"  Why  don't  you  tack  on  another  word  and  let  her 
69 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

know  how  many  knots  we  made  each  day  ?  "  asked  the 
Buffalo  man,  but  his  sarcasm  was  wasted. 

A  week  later  I  met  Mr.  Cupple  and  he  said  that 
the  cablegram  had  given  his  wife  nervous  pros 
tration. 

Mr.  Cupple  is  not  a  careful  penman  and  the  cable 
operator  had  read  the  last  word  of  the  message  as 
"auspicious  "  instead  of  "  suspicious."  A  reference 
to  the  code  showed  that  the  mistake  changed  the  sense 
of  the  message. 

"  Suspicious — Formed  the  acquaintance  of  several 
pleasant  people. 

"  Auspicious — After  a  futile  effort  to  work  the 
pumps  the  captain  gave  orders  to  lower  the  boats. 
The  passengers  were  in  a  panic,  but  the  captain  coolly 
restrained  them  and  gave  orders  that  the  women  and 
children  should  be  sent  away  first." 

The  message,  as  altered  in  transmission,  caused 
Mrs.  Cupple  some  uneasiness,  and,  also,  it  puzzled 
her.  It  was  gratifying  to  know  that  her  husband  had 
enjoyed  the  voyage  and  escaped  seasickness,  but  she 
did  not  like  to  leave  him  on  the  deck  of  the  ship  with 
a  lot  of  women  and  children  stepping  up  to  take  the 
best  places  in  the  boat.  Yet  she  could  not  believe  that 
he  had  been  lost,  otherwise,  how  could  he  have  filed 
a  cablegram  at  London? 

70 


PASSPORT    AND    CABLE    CODE 

She  wanted  further  particulars,  but  she  could 
not  find  in  the  code  any  word  meaning  "Are  you 

drowned?  " 

So  she  sent  a  forty-word  inquiry  to  London,  and 
when  Mr.  Cupple  counted  the  cost  of  it  he  cabled 
back: 

"  All  right.  Ignore  code." 


71 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHAT  ONE  MAN  PICKED  UP  IN  LONDON 
AND  SENT  BACK  TO  HIS  BROTHER 

A  MAN  is  always  justly  proud  of  the  information 
which  has  just  come  to  hand.  He  enjoys  a  new  piece 
of  knowledge  just  as  a  child  enjoys  a  new  Christmas 
toy.  It  seems  impossible  for  him  to  keep  his  hands 
off  of  it.  He  wants  to  carry  it  around  and  show  it  to 
his  friends,  just  as  a  child  wants  to  race  through  the 
neighbourhood  and  display  his  new  toy. 

Within  a  week  the  toy  may  be  thrown  aside,  having 
become  too  familiar  and  commonplace,  and  by  the 
same  rule  of  human  weakness  the  man  will  toss  his 
proud  bit  of  information  into  the  archives  of  memory 
and  never  haul  it  out  again  except  in  response  to  a 
special  demand. 

These  turgid  thoughts  are  suggested  by  the  be 
haviour  of  an  American  stopping  at  our  hotel.  He  is 
here  for  the  first  time,  and  he  has  found  undiluted 
joy  in  getting  the  British  names  of  everything  he 
saw.  After  forty-eight  hours  in  London  he  was  gifted 

72 


WHAT    A    MAN    SENT    HIS    BROTHER 
with  a  new  vocabulary,  and  he  could  not  withstand  the 
temptation  to  let  his  brother  at  home  know  all  about 
it.  The  letter  which  he  wrote  was  more  British  than 
any  Englishman  could  have  made  it. 

In  order  to  add  the  sting  of  insult  to  his  vain 
glorious  display  of  British  terms  he  inserted  par 
enthetical  explanations  at  different  places  in  his  letter. 
It  was  just  as  if  he  had  said,  "  Of  course,  I'll  have 
to  tell  you  what  these  things  mean,  because  you  never 
have  been  out  of  America,  and  you  could  not  be  ex 
pected  to  have  the  broad  and  comprehensive  knowl 
edge  of  a  traveller." 

This  is  the  letter  which  he  read  to  us  last  evening : 

"  DEAR  BROTHER  :  I  send  you  this  letter  by  the  first 
post  (mail)  back  to  America  to  let  you  know  that  I 
arrived  safely.  In  company  with  several  pleasant  chaps 
with  whom  I  had  struck  up  an  acquaintance  during  our 
ride  across  the  pond  (ocean)  I  reached  the  landing  stage 
(dock)  at  Southampton  at  6  o'clock  Saturday.  It  re 
quired  but  a  short  time  for  the  examination  of  my  box 
(trunk)  and  my  two  bags  (valises),  and  then  I  booked 
(bought  a  ticket)  for  London.  My  luggage  (baggage) 
was  put  into  the  van  (baggage  car)  and  registered 
(checked)  for  London.  I  paid  the  porter  a  bob  (a  shil 
ling,  equal  to  24  cents  in  your  money),  and  then  showed 

73 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

my  ticket  to  the  guard  (conductor),  who  showed  me  into 
a  comfortable  first-class  carriage  (one  of  the  small  com 
partments  in  the  passenger  coach),  where  I  settled  back 
to  read  a  London  paper,  for  which  I  had  paid  tuppence 
(4  cents  in  your  money).  Directly  (immediately  after) 
we  started  I  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  was  deeply 
interested  in  this  first  view  of  the  shops  (small  retail 
establishments)  and  the  frequent  public  houses  (saloons). 
Also  we  passed  through  the  railway  yards,  where  I  saw 
many  drivers  (engineers)  and  stokers  (firemen)  sitting 
in  the  locomotives,  which  did  not  seem  to  be  as  large  as 
those  to  which  you  are  accustomed  in  America. 

"  Our  ride  to  London  was  uneventful.  When  we 
arrived  at  London  I  gave  my  hand  luggage  into  the  keep 
ing  of  a  porter  and  claimed  the  box  which  had  been  in  the 
van.  This  was  safely  loaded  on  top  of  a  four-wheeled 
hackney  carriage  (four-wheeled  cab),  and  I  was  driven 
to  my  hotel,  which  happened  to  be  in  (on)  the  same  street, 
and  not  far  from  the  top  (the  end)  of  the  thoroughfare. 
Arrived  at  the  hotel,  I  paid  the  cabby  (the  driver)  a 
half-crown  (about  60  cents  in  your  money),  and  went  in 
to  engage  an  apartment.  I  paid  seven  shillings  (about 
$1.75)  a  day,  this  to  include  service  (lights  and  attend 
ance),  which  was  put  in  at  about  18  pence  a  day.  The 
lift  (elevator)  on  which  I  rode  to  my  apartment  was 
very  slow.  I  found  that  I  had  a  comfortable  room,  with 

74 


WHAT  A  MAN  SENT  HIS  BROTHER 
a  grate,  in  which  I  could  have  a  fire  of  coals  (coal).  As 
I  was  somewhat  seedy  (untidy)  from  travel,  I  went  to  the 
hair-dresser's  (the  barber),  and  was  shaved.  As  it  was 
somewhat  late  I  did  not  go  to  any  theatre,  but  walked 
down  the  Strand  and  had  a  bite  in  a  cook-shop  (restau 
rant).  The  street  was  crowded.  Every  few  steps  you 
would  meet  a  Tommy  Atkins  (soldier)  with  his  '  doner  ' 
(best  girl).  I  stopped  and  inquired  of  a  bobby  (police 
man)  the  distance  to  St.  Paul's  (the  cathedral),  and 
decided  not  to  visit  it  until  the  next  morning. 

"  Yesterday  I  put  in  a  busy  day  visiting  the  abbey 
(Westminster)  and  riding  around  on  the  'buses  (omni 
buses)  and  tram  cars  (street  cars).  In  the  afternoon  I 
went  up  to  Marble  Arch  (the  entrance  to  Hyde  Park), 
and  saw  many  fashionables;  also  I  looked  at  the  Row 
(Rotten  Row,  a  drive  and  equestrian  path  in  Hyde  Park). 
There  were  a  great  many  women  in  smart  gowns  (stylish 
dresses),  and  nearly  all  the  men  wore  frock  coats  (Prince 
Alberts),  and  top  hats  (silk  hats).  There  are  many 
striking  residential  mansions  (apartment  houses)  facing 
the  park,  and  the  district  is  one  of  the  most  exclusive 
up  west  (in  the  west  end  of  London).  Sunday  evening  is 
very  dull,  and  I  looked  around  the  smoking-room  of  the 
hotel.  Nearly  every  man  in  the  room  had  a  '  B  and  S  ' 
(brandy  and  soda)  in  front  of  him,  although  some  of 
them  preferred  '  polly  '  (apollinaris)  to  the  soda.  A  few 

75    • 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

of  them  drank  fizz  (champagne) ;  but,  so  far  as  I  have 
observed,  most  of  the  Englishmen  drink  spirits  (whis 
key),  although  they  very  seldom  take  it  neat  (straight), 
as  you  do  at  home.  I  went  to  bed  early  and  had  a  good 
sleep.  This  morning  when  I  awoke  I  found  that  my  boots 
(shoes),  which  I  had  placed  outside  the  door  the  night 
before,  had  been  neatly  varnished  (polished).  The  tub 
(bath)  which  I  had  bespoken  (ordered)  the  night  before 
was  ready,  and  I  had  a  jolly  good  splash." 

We  paused  in  our  admiring  study  of  the  letter  and 
remarked  to  the  author  that  "jolly  good  splash" 
was  very  good  for  one  who  had  been  ashore  only  two 
days. 

"  Rahther,"  he  said. 

"I  beg  pardon?" 

"  Rahther,  I  say.  But  you  understand,  of  course, 
that  I'm  giving  him  a  bit  of  spoof." 

"A  bit  of  what?" 

"  Spoof — spoof.  Is  it  possible  tbat  you  have  been 
here  since  Saturday  without  learning  what  '  spoof  ' 
means?  It  means  to  chaff,  to  joke.  In  the  States  the 
slang  equivalent  would  be  '  to  string  '  someone." 

"How  did  you  learn  it?" 

"  A  cabby  told  me  about  it.  I  started  to  have  some 
fun  with  him,  and  he  told  me  to  '  give  over  on  the 

76 


WHAT    A    MAN    SENT    HIS    BROTHER 

spoof.'  But  go  ahead  with  the  letter.  I  think  there 
are  several  things  there  that  you'U  like." 
So  we  resumed. 

"  For  breakfast  I  had  a  bowl  of  porridge  (oatmeal) 
and  a  couple  of  eggs,  with  a  few  crumpets  (rolls). 
Nearly  all  day  I  have  been  looking  in  the  shop  windows 
marvelling  at  the  cheap  prices.  Over  here  you  can  get  a 
good  lounge  suit  (sack  suit)  for  about  three  guineas  (a 
guinea  is  twenty-one  shillings) ;  and  I  saw  a  beautiful 
poncho  (light  ulster)  for  four  sovereigns  (a  sovereign 
is  a  pound,  or  twenty  shillings).  A  fancy  waistcoat 
(vest)  costs  only  twelve  to  twenty  shillings  ($3  to  $5), 
and  you  can  get  a  very  good  morning  coat  (cutaway) 
and  waistcoat  for  three  and  ten  (three  pounds  and  ten 
shillings).  I  am  going  to  order  several  suits  before  I 
take  passage  (sail)  for  home.  Thus  far  I  have  bought 
nothing  except  a  pot  hat  (a  derby),  for  which  I  paid  a 
half-guinea  (ten  shillings  and  sixpence).  This  noon  I 
ate  a  snack  (light  luncheon)  in  the  establishment  of  a 
licensed  victualer  (caterer),  who  is  also  a  spirit  merchant 
(liquor  dealer).  I  saw  a  great  many  business  men  and 
clarks  (clerks)  eating  their  meat  pies  (a  meat  pie  is  a 
sort  of  a  frigid  dumpling  with  a  shred  of  meat  concealed 
somewhere  within,  the  trick  being  to  find  the  meat),  and 
drinking  bitter  (ale)  or  else  stout  (porter).  Some  of 

77 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

them  would  eat  only  a  few  biscuit  (crackers)  for  their 
lunch.  Others  would  order  as  much  as  a  cut  of  beef,  or, 
as  we  say  over  here,  a  '  lunch  from  the  joint.'  This  after 
noon  I  have  wandered  about  the  busy  thoroughfares.  All 
the  street  vehicles  travel  rapidly  in  London,  and  you  are 
chivied  (hurried)  at  every  corner." 

"  You  have  learned  altogether  too  much,"  said 
Mr.  Peasley.  Where  did  you  pick  up  that  word 
'chivy'?" 

"  I  got  that  before  I  had  been  ashore  a  half  hour. 
Didn't  I  hear  one  of  those  railroad  men  down  at 
Southampton  tell  another  one  to  '  chivy  '  the  crowd 
out  of  the  custom  house  and  get  it  on  the  train?  I 
suppose  that  '  chivy '  means  to  rush  or  to  hurry. 
Anyway,  he  won't  know  the  difference,  and  it  sounds 
about  as  English  as  anything  I  have  heard  over  here." 

The  letter  continued: 

"  One  of  the  common  sights  in  London  is  the  coster's 
(costermonger's)  little  cart,  drawn  by  a  diminutive  moke 
(donkey)  ;  but  you  do  not  see  many  of  them  west  of  the 
City  (the  original  London  confined  within  the  boundaries 
of  the  ancient  wall,  but  now  comprising  only  a  small  part 
of  the  geographical  area  of  the  metropolis).  I  saw  so 
many  novel  things  that  I  would  like  to  tell  about  them, 

78 


WHAT    A    MAN    SENT    HIS    BROTHER 
but  I   will  reserve  my  further  experiences  for  another 
letter." 

"  I  don't  want  to  write  again  until  I  have  got  a 
new  stock  of  words,"  the  author  explained. 
He  read  as  follows  in  conclusion : 

"  This  evening  I  am  going  to  the  theatre,  having  made 
a  reservation  (that  is,  having  purchased)  two  orchestra 
stalls  (parquet  chairs)  at  the  Lyceum.  You  may  gather 
from  this  letter  that  I  am  having  a  ripping  (very  good) 
time,  and  in  no  hurry  to  terminate  my  stay  in  town 
(in  London).  I  am  your  awfully  devoted  brother, 

"  ALEXANDER." 


79 


IN    PARIS 


CHAPTER   VII 

HOW  AN    AMERICAN    ENJOYS    LIFE    FOR 
EIGHT  MINUTES  AT  A  TIME 

IHEY  were  all  waiting  for  us — there  at  the  corner, 
where  the  Avenue  de  POpera  hooks  on  to  the  string 
of  boulevards.  They  have  been  waiting  for  years 
without  starving  to  death,  so  it  is  possible  that  once 
in  a  while  some  misguided  American  really  em 
ploys  one  of  them.  They  call  themselves  guides,  but 
they  are  tramps — shabby  genteel  tramps,  oiled  and 
cheaply  perfumed,  full  of  shamefaced  gayety,  speak 
ing  wretched  English.  They  come  out  of  doorways 
at  you,  and  in  grovelling  whispers  beg  of  you  to  come 
with  them  and  see  all  the  wickedness  of  Paris.  They 
attempt  insulting  familiarities,  such  as  taking  you  by 
the  arm  or  crowding  close  alongside  and  keeping  up 
with  you  while  they  continue  their  blandishing  argu 
ments.  Mr.  Peasley  expressed  our  violent  emotions 
when  he  said :  "  When  I'm  tackled  by  one  of  those 
fellows  I  get  hopping  mad,  because  I  know  then  that 
I  must  look  easy." 

We  did  not  need  any  guide  because  we  were  looking 
83 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

for. a  cafe,  and  without  any  particular  effort  on  our 
part  we  found  more  than  one  thousand.  On  a  crisp 
evening  in  February,  with  snow  lying  in  the  neglected 
corners,  we  should  have  hunted  for  a  grate  fire ;  but 
no,  we  were  in  Paris  and  we  wanted  to  sit  in  front  of 
a  cafe.  For  a  week  Mr.  Peasley  had  been  saying, 
"  Wait  until  we  get  to  Paris  and  then  we  will  go 
and  sit  in  front  of  a  cafe." 

We  saw  many  natives,  all  bundled  up,  sitting  in 
the  open  street  and  slowly  freezing  to  death,  and  so 
we  joined  one  of  the  frigid  little  clusters  and  found 
some  nice  iron  chairs  waiting  for  us.  It  was  a  most 
heroic  performance,  but  we  took  our  coffee  in  the 
open  air.  A  true  Parisian  can  sit  under  a  striped  awn 
ing  for  hours  at  a  time  with  nothing  to  entertain  him 
except  a  few  cigarettes,  made  of  autumn  leaves,  and 
a  large  goblet  filled  with  sweetened  water.  The  newly 
arrived  American  wants  to  be  truly  Parisian,  so  he 
plants  himself  at  a  small  table  and  settles  back  for 
an  evening  of  calm  enjoyment.  In  five  minutes  he  has 
made  a  careful  study  of  all  the  people  at  the  neigh 
bouring  tables,  he  has  watched  the  passing  crowds 
until  he  is  dizzy,  and  he  is  beginning  to  squirm  and 
hanker  for  real  excitement.  He  wants  something  to 
happen.  It  occurs  to  him  that  he  is  wasting  time.  He 
wonders  if  there  isn't  something  doing  a  block  or 

84 


HOW    AN    AMERICAN    ENJOYS    LIFE 
two  to   the  east.   So  he  moves   on.  By  nine   o'clock 
we  had  become  sated  with  the  cafe  life  of  Paris  and 
were  scouting  for  a  music  hall. 

When  we  were  shown  to  our  seats  in  the  temple  of 
art  we  found  ourselves  near  three  Americans,  two 
sedate  old  men  and  a  motherish  woman  in  whom  good 
ness  and  piety  were  plainly  advertised.  They  were 
the  kind  of  people  who  would  not  go  to  an  entertain 
ment  in  the  church  parlours  at  home  unless  assured 
by  the  pastor  that  the  performance  would  be  proper 
in  all  details.  Here  in  Paris  they  sat  in  the  front 
row  of  a  music  hall  frequented  by  the  gay  char 
acters  of  the  boulevard  and  watched  a  pantomime 
which  was  calculated  to  peel  the  frescoes  off  the  wall. 
They  were  not  greatly  amazed  or  shocked,  but  simply 
regarded  the  proceedings  with  sober  interest.  They 
were  doing  their  plain  duty  as  sight-seers. 

Whenever  I  am  in  Paris  I  go  to  a  show-shop  in  the 
evening  and  sit  enthralled,  listening  to  the  musical 
singsong  dialogue,  of  which  I  comprehended  not  one 
word.  The  pantomime  gives  an  occasional  flash-light 
on  the  story  of  the  play  and  guess-work  does  the  rest. 

After  making  the  rounds  of  the  theatres,  it  is 
pleasant  relaxation  to  watch  the  outdoor  shows.  I 
remember  a  travelling  amusement  enterprise  that 
passed  our  hotel  in  the  early  morning  of  a  fete  day. 

85 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

A  big,  square-shouldered  fellow,  with  an  overcoat 
almost  concealing  his  suit  of  tights,  was  pulling  a 
hand-cart  containing  a  roll  of  carpet,  some  coils  of 
rope,  two  chairs,  several  dumbells,  and  those  worn 
blue-painted  odds  and  ends  that  seem  to  litter  the 
"  show  business  "  wherever  it  is  encountered. 

A  smaller  man,  who  did  not  wear  tights,  but  whose 
attire,  by  its  faded  jauntiness,  suggested  his  connec 
tion  with  the  profession,  walked  behind  the  cart  and 
pushed,  although  it  seemed  at  times  that  he  leaned 
more  than  he  pushed. 

Last  of  all  came  a  stocky  and  erect  young  fellow, 
with  a  muscular  frame  dignifying  an  over-worn  suit 
of  clothes.  He  carried  a  valise  and  one  did  not  need 
to  see  it  open  to  know  that  it  contained  the  powder, 
grease-paint,  comb  and  brush,  pocket  mirror  and  bar 
of  soap  that  accompany  the  entertainer  on  his  travels 
and  abide  with  him  so  long  as  hope  remains. 

Later  in  the  day  the  aggregation  was  seen  again, 
and  this  time  at  its  best. 

A  crowd  had  formed  a  fringe  around  an  open 
space  in  one  of  the  boulevard  "  places  "  and  was 
watching  a  performance.  The  big  man  who  had 
pulled  the  cart  seemed  to  be  the  workhorse  of  the 
company. 

His  smaller  companion,  who  had  held  to  the  cart, 
86 


HOW    AN    AMERICAN    ENJOYS    LIFE 
was  now  transformed  into  a  clown,  with  baggy  cos 
tume  and  painted  face. 

With  much  grunting  and  some  grinding  of  the 
teeth  the  big  man  lifted  dumb-bells  into  the  air  and 
held  them  there.  His  face  was  moist  with  perspira 
tion  and  around  the  belt  line  of  his  tights  there  were 
damp  spots. 

When  he  had  shown  his  prowess  with  dead  weights 
he  gathered  up  the  stocky  man,  who  was  also  in 
tights,  and  held  him  at  arm's  length  above  his  head 
while  his  broad  abdomen  heaved  like  bellows. 

The  crowd  was  moved  to  applause,  whereupon  the 
clown,  taking  quick  advantage  of  the  demonstration, 
began  passing  the  hat.  The  clown's  duties  were  very 
simple.  He  made  confidential  remarks  to  the  spec 
tators,  evoked  some  laughter  by  his  comments  on  the 
various  feats,  and  watched  his  opportunty  to  reach 
for  the  coppers.  The  big  man  worked  incessantly, 
but  the  clown  seemed  to  be  the  more  popular  with 
the  lounging  sight-seers.  He  had  taken  the  safe  atti 
tude  of  a  critic,  and  he  must  have  known  the  secrets 
of  business  welfare.  He  allowed  his  associates  to  do 
the  heavy  work  while  he  kept  cool  and  gathered  in 
the  money. 

One  evening  while  passing  a  row  of  canvas  booths 
on  one  of  the  open  play-grounds  we  saw  a  young 

87 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

man  with  his  hat  off  and  his  hair  roughed  up,  taking 
deliberate  aim  with  a  rifle  at  a  very  small  target 
twenty  feet  distant.  The  target  was  placed  above  a 
miniature  prison  about  two  feet  high.  Extending 
from  the  prison  gate  was  a  broad  platform,  on  which 
was  erected  a  guillotine  perhaps  eighteen  inches  high. 

Evidently  there  was  some  hidden  connection  be 
tween  the  small  target  and  the  puny  prison.  The 
young  Frenchman  seemed  unable  to  hit  the  target. 
First  the  bullet  would  strike  just  below  and  then 
just  above  or  off  at  one  side.  He  became  discouraged 
once  and  started  away,  but  this  was  too  much  like 
surrender,  so  he  came  back,  paid  for  three  more  shots 
and  vowed  that  he  would  not  give  up  until  he  had 
succeeded. 

On  the  second  shot  there  was  a  sudden  buzzing, 
and  then  the  striking  of  a  bell,  which  announced  that 
he  had  hit  the  target.  The  prison  doors  flew  open  and 
out  came  three  figures  abreast,  moving  with  slow  and 
jerky  deliberation. 

The  Frenchman  who  had  invoked  the  spectacle 
dropped  the  gun  and  shouted  with  joy.  At  last  he 
was  to  see  it ! 

The  three  figures  continued  to  move  with  mechan 
ical  gait  toward  the  guillotine,  and  it  could  be  seen 
that  the  bareheaded  doll  in  the  middle  had  its  hands 

88 


HOW    AN    AMERICAN    ENJOYS    LIFE 

tied  behind  it  and  that  the  printed  lines  of  the  face 
expressed  mournful  resignation.  The  two  other  men 
were  fiercely  bearded  and  appeared  to  be  cruel  and 
determined. 

As  they  came  to  the  guillotine  the  figure  in  the 
middle  toppled  forward  without  bending  a  joint  and 
lay  with  its  head  in  the  groove  of  the  block.  This 
was  time  to  turn  away,  sick  at  heart ;  but  the  French 
man,  who  had  spent  as  much  as  a  franc  to  see  this 
show,  giggled  with  elation. 

One  of  the  bearded  manikins  raised  his  arm  as  if 
it  were  the  handle  of  a  pump.  The  tin  blade  fell, 
and  the  head,  which  was  as  large  as  a  hickory  nut, 
rolled  into  the  basket. 

Liberty,  equality  and  fraternity !  The  reign  of 
terror — three  shots  for  ten  centimes. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

A  CHAPTER  OF  FRENCH  JUSTICE  AS  DEALT 
OUT    IN    THE    DREYFUS    CASE 

A  GOOD  many  people  do  not  understand  the 
method  of  French  courts  of  law.  Take  the 
Dreyfus  case,  for  instance.  It  has  been  dragging 
along  for  years,  and  the  more  evidence  accumulated 
by  Captain  Dreyfus  to  prove  his  innocence,  the 
greater  seems  to  be  his  portion  of  woe.  He  has  been 
vindicated  over  and  over  again  and  the  vindications 
simply  make  him  more  unpopular  with  those  who 
prefer  to  regard  him  as  a  mysterious  and  melo 
dramatic  villain. 

People  living  at  home  have  never  understood  why 
Captain  Dreyfus  was  convicted  in  the  first  place. 
That  is  because  they  are  not  familiar  with  the  work 
ings  of  a  French  court  and  cling  to  the  Anglo-Saxon 
rule,  that  every  man  must  be  regarded  as  innocent 
until  he  is  proven  guilty.  The  French  say  that  trials 
may  be  greatly  simplified  if  the  presumption  of  guilt 
is  attached  to  every  defendant  in  a  criminal  case. 

90 


CHAPTER    OF    FRENCH    JUSTICE 
When  the  presumption  of  guilt  is  combined  with  a 
personal  unpopularity,  the  prisoner  usually  finds  it 
advisable  to  throw  himself  on  the  mercy  of  the  court 
and  accept  a  life  sentence. 

In  order  to  elucidate  the  rules  of  procedure  in  a 
French  court  and  show  how  and  why  Captain  Drey 
fus  was  convicted,  let  us  suppose  that  French  methods 
could  be  transferred  to  the  United  States  and  applied 
to  an  ordinary  'criminal  case — say  the  theft  of  a  dog. 
Here  is  what  would  happen. 

The  Court — "  Prisoner,  you  are  accused  of  steal 
ing  a  dog.  Are  you  guilty  or  not  guilty?  " 

Prisoner — "  Not  guilty." 

Court — "  Well,  someone  stole  a  dog,  and  if  you 
refuse  to  acknowledge  your  guilt,  we  may  be  com 
pelled  to  cast  suspicion  on  gentlemen  who  would  be 
deeply  pained  to  have  themselves  interrogated. 

The  Prisoner — "  How  can  I  acknowledge  my  guilt 
when  I  didn't  steal  the  dog?  " 

Court — "  That  isn't  the  point.  The  point  is  that 
a  great  many  prominent  and  influential  people  have 
said  at  different  times  that  you  stole  the  dog.  Now, 
if  you  come  before  the  tribunal  and  prove  that  you 
didn't  steal  the  dog  you  are  going  to  humiliate  a 
great  many  well  known  and  sensitive  persons  and 
make  the  whole  situation  very  distressing  to  me.  It 

91 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

would  simplify  matters  greatly  if  you  would  admit, 
that  you  stole  the  dog." 

The  Prisoner — "  But  how  can  I  admit  stealing  the 
dog  when  I  am  entirely  innocent?  " 

The  Court — "  Did  you  ever  see  the  dog  said  to  have 
been  stolen  ?  " 

Prisoner — "  Yes,  sir."    (Profound  sensation.) 

Court — "  And  yet  you  have  the  audacity  to  stand 
there  and  say  you  didn't  steal  it?  " 

Prisoner — "  A  great  many  other  people  saw  the 
dog." 

Court — "  Perhaps  so ;  but  they  would  make 
trouble  if  you  or  anyone  else  began  insinuating 
against  them,  so  I  don't  propose  to  have  their  names 
hauled  in  here.  Of  all  the  men  who  saw  the  dog  and 
had  a  chance  to  steal  it,  you  are  the  only  one  whose 
conviction  would  satisfy  the  general  public." 

Prisoner — "  I  can  bring  witnesses  who  saw  another 
man  steal  the  dog.  I  can  prove  that  he  confessed  to 
stealing  the  dog  and  that  he  has  fled  to  escape 
punishment." 

Court — "You  ought  not  to  bring  any  such  testi 
mony  into  this  court,  for  if  you  do  so  you  are  going 
to  upset  some  theories  held  by  very  dear  friends  of 
mine,  and  if  I  permit  the  introduction  of  such  testi 
mony,  there  is  no  telling  what  they  will  say  about  me. 

92 


CHAPTER    OF    FRENCH    JUSTICE 

If  you  didn't  steal  the  dog  isn't  there  something  else 
you  have  done  that  is  punishable  in  one  way  or 
another?  " 

Prisoner — "  I  can't  think  of  anything  just  now." 

Court — "  Oh,  pshaw !  Aren't  you  guilty  of  some 
thing?  Just  think  a  moment.  Nearly  every  man  is 
guilty  of  something.  If  we  can  find  you  guilty  of 
any  old  crime  it  will  help  some." 

Prisoner — "  I  refuse  to  acknowledge  any  degree 
of  guilt.  I  am  innocent." 

Court — "  I  don't  see  how  you  can  be  when  so  many 
estimable  people  think  otherwise,  but  I  suppose  we 
shall  have  to  give  you  a  trial.  Call  the  first  witness." 

First  Witness — "  Your  Honor,  I  am  a  very  high- 
minded  and  aristocratic  person,  and  I  have  always 
disliked  this  defendant.  (Sensation.)  As  soon  as  I 
had  heard  that  someone  had  accused  him  of  stealing 
a  dog,  I  knew  he  must  be  guilty.  I  still  hold  to  the 
opinion  that  he  is  guilty.  I  know  that  another  man 
has  confessed  to  stealing  the  dog,  and  has  skipped 
out  in  order  to  avoid  arrest,  but  these  details  have  no 
weight  with  me.  I  am  satisfied  that  if  the  defendant 
did  not  steal  the  dog  mentioned  in  this  affidavit,  he 
must  have  stolen  some  other  dog  that  we  know  noth 
ing  about.  Ever  since  this  wretched  defendant  was 
first  accused  of  this  crime  I  have  been  going  around 

93 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

saying  that  he  was  guilty  beyond  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt.  Naturally  I  am  not  going  to  come  here  now 
and  acknowledge  his  innocence.  If  he  is  acquitted, 
I'll  be  the  subject  of  ridicule.  That  is  why  I  urge 
the  court  to  convict  him.  No  matter  what  the  testi 
mony  may  show,  you  take  my  personal  assurance  that 
he  is  guilty.  Remember  one  thing,  that  I  have  a 
large  pull. 

The  Court — "  Thank  you  very  much  for  your  tes 
timony.  Call  the  second  witness." 

Second  Witness — "  Your  Honor,  one  day  last 
spring  I  met  a  man  whose  friend  told  him  that  one  day 
he  saw  the  defendant  pass  the  house  from  which  the 
dog  was  stolen.  From  that  moment  I  became  con 
vinced  of  the  defendant's  guilt.  (Terrific  sensa 
tion.)  Another  day  a  stranger  walked  into  my  office 
and  told  me  that  '  D  '  was  the  first  letter  of  the  name 
of  the  man  who  stole  the  dog.  Although  there  are 
100,000  persons  in  town  whose  names  begin  with 
'  D,'  I  had  no  difficulty  in  coming  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  particular  '  D  '  who  stole  the  dog  was  the 
scoundrel  now  on  trial.  The  reason  that  I  came  to 
this  conclusion  was  that  he  used  to  wear  a  red  neck 
tie,  and  I  dislike  any  man  who  wears  a  red  necktie. 
Also  I  attach  great  importance  to  the  fact  that  the 
letter  '  D,'  which  is  the  first  letter  in  his  name,  is 

94 


CHAPTER    OF    FRENCH    JUSTICE 
also  the  first  letter  in  '  Dog,'  thus  proving  that  he 
stole     the    dog.    (Profound    sensation.)   In     conclu 
sion  I  would  like  to  request  the  court  to  bring  in  a 
verdict  of  guilty. 

The  Court — "  We  will  now  have  some  expert  tes 
timony." 

First  Expert — "  Your  Honor,  I  never  saw  the 
prisoner  before,  and  I  had  no  personal  acquaintance 
with  the  dog,  but  I  am  convinced  that  he  stole 
the  dog,  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  You  know,  of 
course,  that  another  man  has  confessed  to  stealing 
the  dog.  My  theory,  evolved  after  much  thought,  is 
that  the  man  who  confessed  did  not  steal  the  dog  at 
all,  but  that  the  dog  was  stolen  by  the  defendant,  who 
disguised  himself  so  as  to  resemble  the  man  who  has 
confessed.  (Great  sensation.)  There  seems  to  be  a 
universal  admission  that  the  man  who  stole  the  dog 
was  a  brunette.  Some  people  claim  that  this  fact 
points  to  the  innocence  of  the  defendant,  who  is  a 
blonde;  but  my  theory  is  that  the  defendant  dyed 
his  hair  and  whiskers  so  as  to  cause  them  to  resemble 
the  hair  and  whiskers  of  a  certain  innocent  man,  then 
he  borrowed  a  suit  of  the  innocent  man's  clothes  and 
went  and  stole  the  dog,  and  the  resemblance  was  so 
perfect  that  even  the  innocent  man  and  the  dog  were 
both  deceived.  The  innocent  man  thought  that  he, 

95 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

and  not  the  defendant,  had  stolen  the  dog,  so  he  con 
fessed  and  then  ran  away.  But  I  am  here  to  save  him 
in  spite  of  his  confession.  I  maintain  that  if  this 
defendant  were  to  dye  his  hair  and  whiskers  and  put 
on  a  suit  of  clothes  belonging  to  the  man  who  has  con 
fessed  to  stealing  the  dog,  then  to  anyone  a  short 
distance  away  he  would  bear  a  striking  resemblance 
to  the  man  who  has  confessed.  Therefore  the  dog  was 
not  stolen  by  the  man  who  has  confessed,  but  by  this 
infamous  defendant  cleverly  disguised  to  resemble 
the  man  who  has  confessed." 

The  Court — "  Then  you  think  he  is  guilty?  " 
Expert  Witness — "  If  there  is  anything  in  my  the 
ory,  it  is  simply  impossible  for  him  to  be  innocent." 

The  Court — "Much  obliged.  Call  the  next  wit 
ness." 

Next  Witness — "  I  would  like  to  state  to  the  court 
that  the  defendant  is-  not  very  well  liked  down  in  our 
neighbourhood,  where  he  formerly  resided,  and  if  the 
court  will  only  convict  him  it  will  be  a  distinct  per 
sonal  favour  to  several  of  us." 

The  Court — "  Do  you  think  him  guilty?  " 

Next  Witness — "  I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  of 

it.  Neither  has  my  wife.  I  have  been  convinced  of  his 

guilt  ever  since  I  heard  him  say  one  morning,  '  I  have 

something  to  do  this  afternoon.'  It  is  evident  to  my 

96 


CHAPTER    OF    FRENCH    JUSTICE 

mind  that  when  he  said,  '  I  have  something  to  do  this 
afternoon,'  he  meant,  '  I  am  going  to  steal  a  dog  this 
afternoon.'  (Sensation.) 

The  Court — "  Then  you  are  quite  sure  that  he 
did  steal  the  dog?" 

Next  Witness — "  Of  course." 

The  Court — "  Are  there  any  other  witnesses  ?  " 

Prisoner — "  I  have  several  witnesses  here  who  saw 
the  other  man  steal  the  dog.  I  can  prove  that  at  the 
time  of  the  stealing  I  was  ten  miles  away,  attending 
a  picnic.  I  can  prove,  also,  that  I  didn't  need  a  dog ; 
that  I  never  liked  dogs ;  that  I  had  no  earthly  motive 
for  stealing  a  dog ;  and  that  from  the  time  of  my  first 
accusation  I  have  consistently  and  emphatically 
denied  any  knowledge  of  the  crime." 

The  Court—"  Well,  I  don't  see  that  the  dog  has 
anything  to  do  with  the  case.  I'll  sentence  you  to  six 
months  in  the  bridewell  for  being  so  blamed  un 
popular." 


97 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE    STORY    OF    WHAT    HAPPENED    TO    AN 
AMERICAN    CONSUL 

IN  undertaking  a  trip  to  foreign  parts  I  have  had 
two  obj  ects  in  view : — 

(a)  To  strengthen  and  more  closely  cement  our 
friendly  relations  with  foreign  Powers — I  to  furnish 
the  cement. 

(b)  To  reform  things  in  general  over  here. 

I  found  that  there  was  no  opening  for  a  real  re 
former  in  the  U.  S.  A.,  inasmuch  as  the  magazines 
were  upsetting  municipal  rings,  cornering  the  Beef 
Trust,  and  camping  on  the  trail  of  every  corpora 
tion  that  seemed  to  be  making  money.  I  said : — "  If 
I  wish  to  make  a  ten  strike  as  a  reformer  I  must  seek 
new  fields." 

So  I  decided  to  flit  to  Europe  and  spend  all 
the  time  I  could  spare  from  dodging  table  d'hote 
dinners  to  bolstering  up  and  regulating  the  consular 
service. 

In  writing  to-day  about  the  happy  experiences  of 
98 


STORY    OF    AN    AMERICAN    CONSUL 

an  American  consul  I  am  following  the  advice  of  a 
friend  who  urged  me  to  send  some  letters  back 
home. 

"  Don't  put  in  too  much  about  your  travels,"  he 
said.  "  People  have  read  about  European  travel  until 
they  know  Munich  better  than  they  do  Montana. 
Whenever  the  opportunity  presents  itself  write  some 
thing  entirely  irrelevant — something  that  has  noth 
ing  to  do  with  anything  in  particular.  The  less  you 
say  about  foreign  countries  the  better  you  will  please 
your  readers,  and  if  you  can  arrange  to  write  a  series 
of  letters  in  which  no  reference  is  made  to  either 
Europe  or  Africa  who  knows  but  what  you  will 
score  a  hit?  " 

With  no  desire  to  boast  of  my  accomplishments, 
I  feel  that  up  to  date  I  have  followed  instructions 
rather  closely.  If  any  dates,  statistics,  or  useful  infor 
mation  have  crept  into  these  communications  it  is 
through  oversight  and  not  by  intention. 

In  writing  from  Paris  the  natural  impulse  is  to 
describe  Napoleon's  tomb  and  tell  how  the  Champs 
Elysees  runs  right  out  to  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  and 
then  cuts  through  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  Fearing 
that  this  subject  matter  had  been  touched  upon  by 
other  visitors,  I  shall  disregard  Paris  and  go  straight 
to  my  task  of  reforming  the  consular  service. 

99 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

To  begin  with,  usually  the  American  Consul  is  all 
right  in  his  place,  but  his  place  is  at  home.  Over 
paid,  possibly,  but  he  does  his  best  to  earn  his  $800 
per  annum.  If  he  kept  all  the  money  that  he  han 
dled  in  the  course  of  the  year,  he  couldn't  be  a  really 
successful  grafter.  He  finds  himself  plumped  down 
in  a  strange  country.  About  the  time  that  he  begins 
to  learn  the  language  and  has  saved  up  enough 
money  to  buy  evening  clothes  he  is  recalled  and  goes 
back  home  with  a  "  dress  suit  "  on  his  hands.  Take 
the  case  of  Mr.  Eben  Willoughby,  of  Michigan.  It 
is  a  simple  narrative,  but  it  will  give  you  a  line  on  the 
shortcomings  of  our  consular  service,  and  it  will 
carry  its  own  moral. 

"  Old  Man "  Willoughby,  as  he  was  known  at 
home,  owned  and  edited  a  successful  daily  paper  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  Michigan  pine  belt.  He  was  a 
wheel  horse  in  the  party  and  for  forty  years  had 
supported  the  caucus  nominees.  The  aspiring  poli 
tician  who  wished  to  go  to  Congress  had  to  go  and 
see  Willoughby  with  his  hat  in  his  hand.  He  helped 
to  make  and  unmake  United  States  Senators  and 
was  consulted  regarding  appointments.  But  he  never 
had  asked  anything  for  himself.  His  two  boys  went 
to  college  at  Ann  Arbor,  and  when  the  younger  came 
home  with  his  degree  and  began  to  take  a  hand  in 

100 


STORY    OF    AN    AMERICAN    CONSUL 
running  the  paper  Mr.  Willoughby  found  himself, 
for  the  first  time  in   his   life,   relieved   of  wearing 
responsibilities.  He  was  well  fixed  financially  and  still 


Had  to  go  and  see  Willoughby 

in  the  prime  of  life — not  due  to  retire  permanently, 
but  ready  to  take  it  easy.  For  years  he  had  nursed 
a  vague  desire  to  travel  beyond  the  limits  of  his 
native  land.  Mrs.  Willoughby,  who  in  the  home  cir 
cle  was  known  as  "  Ma,"  was  a  devotee  of  the  Chau- 

101 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

tauqua  Circle,  and  she,  too,  had  an  ambition  born 
of  much  reading  to  pack  up  and  go  somewhere.  The 
family  doctor  said  that  a  visit  to  some  milder  climate, 
far  from  the  rigours  of  northern  winter,  would  be 
a  positive  benefit  to  her. 

So  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Willoughby  began  to  study  the 
atlas.  One  of  the  sons  suggested  to  "  Old  Man " 
Willoughby  that  he  could  take  a  trip  to  an  attrac 
tive  southern  country  at  the  minimum  expense  by  se 
curing  an  appointment  as  consul.  And,  of  course, 
apart  from  the  financial  advantage,  there  would  be 
the  glory  of  representing  a  great  nation  and  hoist 
ing  the  flag  over  a  benighted  foreign  population. 
The  suggestion  appealed  very  strongly  to  Mr.  Wil 
loughby.  He  wrote  to  the  Congressman  and  the  Sen 
ator,  and  wanted  to  know  if  there  was  a  vacancy — 
salary  no  object,  but  he  would  like  to  go  into  a  mild 
and  equable  climate  where  he  could  pick  cocoanuts. 

His  friends  at  Washington  simply  overturned  the 
State  Department  in  their  eagerness  to  give  him  what 
he  wanted.  They  discovered  that  there  was  some 
where  on  the  map  a  city  called  Gallivancia.  It  was 
down  by  the  southern  seas — the  abode  of  perpetual 
summer  and  already  enjoying  a  preliminary  boom  as 
a  resort.  The  acting  consul  had  been  a  British  sub 
ject.  The  pay  was  so  small  that  no  enterprising 

102 


STORY  OF  AN  AMERICAN  CONSUL 

American  had  wanted  the  job.  "  United  States  Con 
sul  at  Gallivancia "  reverberated  pleasantly  in  the 
imagination  of  Mr.  Willoughby.  He  told  his  friends 
at  Washington  to  go  after  the  place,  and  in  less  than 
no  time  his  daily  paper  announced  that  he  had  "  ac 
cepted  "  the  appointment. 

The  politicians  represented  to  the  State  Depart 
ment  that  Mr.  Willoughby  was  a  sturdy  patriot  of 
unimpeachable  character  and  great  ability — all  of 
which  was  true.  They  might  have  added  that  he 
would  be  just  as  much  at  home  in  Gallivancia  as  a 
polar  bear  would  be  on  India's  coral  strand. 

The  news  of  his  appointment  gave  one  section  of 
Michigan  the  trembles  for  several  days,  and  the  Wil 
loughby  family  was  bathed  in  a  new  importance. 
Mrs.  Willoughby  was  given  a  formal  farewell  by 
the  ladies  of  the  congregation  assembled  in  the 
church  parlours.  Mr.  Willoughby  was  presented  with 
a  jewelled  badge  by  the  members  of  his  lodge,  and 
the  band  serenaded  him  the  night  before  he  went 
away. 

He  and  "  ma  "  stood  on  the  back  platform  and 
gazed  with  misty  eyes  at  the  flutter  of  handkerchiefs 
on  the  station  platform  until  the  train  swung  around 
a  curve  and  they  found  themselves  headed  straight 
for  Gallivancia  and  glory.  Both  of  them  felt  a  little 

103 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

heart-achey  and  dubious,  but  it  was  too  late  to  back 
out.  At  New  York  they  boarded  a  ship  and  after 
several  days  of  unalloyed  misery  they  landed  at 
Gallivancia. 

Now,  Gallivancia  is  the  make-believe  capital  of  a 
runt  of  an  island  having  no  commercial  or  other  im 
portance.  No  matter  where  an  island  may  be  dropped 
down,  some  nation  must  grab  it  and  hold  it  for  fear 
that  some  other  nation  will  take  charge  of  it  and 
pay  the  expenses.  That  is  why  Gallivancia  had  a 
governor  general  and  a  colonel  in  command,  and  the 
Right  Honourable  Skipper  of  the  gunboat  .and  a 
judge  and  a  cluster  of  foreign  consuls.  The  men  had 
a  club  at  which  whiskey  and  water  could  be  obtained, 
unless  the  bottle  happened  to  be  empty.  The  women 
exchanged  calls  and  gave  formal  dinners  and  drove 
about  in  rickety  little  victorias  with  terrified  natives 
in  livery  perched  upon  the  box.  The  lines  of  social 
precedence  were  closely  drawn.  At  a  dinner  party 
the  wife  of  the  governor  preceded  the  wife  of  the 
military  commander  who,  in  turn,  queened  it  over 
the  wife  of  the  gunboat,  who  looked  down  upon  the 
wife  of  the  magistrate,  and  so  on.  The  women  smoked 
cigarettes  and  gambled  at  bridge,  while  every  man 
who  had  won  a  medal  at  a  shooting  match  pinned  it 
on  his  coat  when  he  went  to  a  ball.  It  was  a  third- 

104 


STORY  OF  AN  AMERICAN  CONSUL 
rate  copy  of  court  life,  but  these  small  dignitaries 
went  through  the  motions  and  got  a  lot  of  fun  out 
of  it  in  one  way  and  another.  If  we  cannot  afford  a 
social  position  that  is  real  ivory,  the  next  best  thing 
is  to  get  one  that  is  celluloid.  It  had  all  the  intricate 
vices  of  a  true  nobility  without  the  bona  fide  titles 
to  back  them  up  and  give  the  glamour. 

Into  this  nest  of  pretentious,  ceremonious,  strut 
ting  little  mortals  came  "  Old  Man  "  Willoughby 
and  "  Ma  "  Willoughby  of  Michigan.  Of  the  out 
ward  form  and  artificialities  of  a  Europeanised  aris 
tocratic  society  they  were  most  profoundly  ignorant. 
Mr.  Willoughby  did  not  even  own  a  "  dress  suit." 
When  he  got  a  clean  shave  and  put  on  a  string  tie 
and  backed  into  a  "  Prince  Albert  "  coat  he  felt  that 
he  had  made  a  very  large  concession  to  the  mere  frip 
peries  of  life.  And  "  Ma  "  had  her  own  ideas  about 
low-necked  gowns. 

Can  you  see  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Willoughby  in  Galli- 
vancia?  Can  you  understand  what  must  have  been 
the  attitude  of  these  gold-braid  pewees  toward  an 
old-fashioned  apple  pie  couple  from  the  tall  timber? 

Mind  you,  I  am  not  poking  fun  at  the  Willough- 
bys.  In  the  opinion  of  every  real  American  a  man 
of  the  Willoughby  type  is  worth  a  ten-acre  lot  full 
of  these  two-by-four  titles.  The  Willoughbys  were 

105 


106 


STORY    OF    AN    AMERICAN    CONSUL 

good  people — the  kind  of  people  one  likes  to  meet 
in  Michigan.  But  when  the  ladies  of  the  foreign 
colony  came  to  call  on  "  Ma  "  and  said  "  Dyuh  me !  " 
and  looked  at  her  through  their  lorgnettes,  she  was 
like  a  staid  old  Plymouth  Rock  hen  who  suddenly 
finds  herself  among  the  birds  of  paradise.  She  told 
Mr.  Willoughby  that  it  was  the  queerest  lot  of 
"  women  folks  "  she  had  ever  seen,  and  although  she 
didn't  like  to  talk  about  people  until  she  knew  her 
ground,  some  of  them  did  not  seem  any  more  re 
spectable  than  the  law  allowed.  Poor  Mrs.  Wil 
loughby !  She  did  not  know  it  was  good  form  for  a 
woman  to  smoke  and  drink,  but  bad  form  for  her 
to  be  interested  in  her  husband.  She  tried  to  apply  a 
Michigan  training  to  Gallivancia  conditions,  and 
the  two  didn't  seem  to  jibe. 

If  Mrs.  Willoughhby  amused  the  women,  Mr.  Wil 
loughby  more  than  amused  the  men.  He  upset  them 
and  left  them  gasping. 

The  Acting  Consul  had  used  a  small  office  adjoin 
ing  his  own  place  of  business  on  the  water  front. 
Mr.  Willoughby  called  on  the  former  consul  and 
found  him  to  be  a  dignified  Britisher  of  the  gloomy 
and  reticent  sort,  with  a  moustache  shaped  like  a 
horseshoe.  The  dethroned  official  was  courteous,  but 
not  cordial.  He  was  saying  good-by  to  some  easy 

107 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

money,  and  the  situation  was  not  one  calculated  to 
promote  good  cheer.  Mr.  Willoughby's  action  in 
coming  down  and  pulling  the  Consulate  from  under 
neath  him  seemed  to  him  almost  unfriendly.  How 
ever,  he  formally  turned  over  to  Mr.  Willoughby  a 
table,  four  chairs,  several  account  books,  and  a  let 
ter  press,  all  being  the  property  of  the  United  States 
of  America. 

Mr.  Willoughby  had  rented  a  house  on  the  hill 
overlooking  the  town  and  decided  to  plant  the  Con 
sulate  in  the  front  room  of  his  residence.  Inasmuch 
as  the  Consul  had  a  business  caller  about  once  a 
month,  there  was  no  need  of  maintaining  two  estab 
lishments.  Already  he  had  taken  into  his  employ  and 
his  warmest  personal  friendship  a  native  named  Fran- 
ciotto.  This  name  seemed  formal  and  hard  to  remem 
ber,  so  Mr.  Willoughby  rechristened  him  "  Jim."  He 
liked  this  native  in  spite  of  his  colour  because  he  was 
the  only  man  in  Gallivancia  who  seemed  to  be  per 
vaded  by  the  simple  spirit  of  democracy.  Mr.  Wil 
loughby  said  that  the  others  put  on  too  many  "  dam- 
lugs  "  —whatever  that  may  mean. 

If  U.  S.  Consul  Willoughby's  social  standing  in 
Gallivancia  was  at  all  subject  to  doubt  that  doubt 
vanished  on  the  day  when  he  and  "  Jim  "  came  down 
to  move  the  office  effects  to  the  house  on  the  hill. 

108 


STORY  OF  AN  AMERICAN  CONSUL 
Mr.  Willoughby  did  something  that  day  which 
convulsed  Gallivancia  as  it  never  had  been  convulsed 
before — not  even  when  a  neighbouring  volcano  blew 
off.  For  days  afterward  the  official  set,  the  men  at 
the  little  club,  and  the  women  pouring  tea  at  each 
other,  talked  of  nothing  else.  Many  would  not  be 
lieve  when  they  first  heard  it,  but  there  were  witnesses 
— reliable  witnesses — who  saw  the  whole  thing  and 
were  called  upon  time  and  time  again  to  testify  re 
garding  the  most  extraordinary  performance  of  the 
United  States  Consul.  Other  Consuls  may  come  and 
go  and  the  years  spin  their  weary  lengths  and  the 
obliterating  drift  of  time  may  hide  some  of  the  lesser 
events  in  the  history  of  Gallivancia,  but  until  time 
shall  be  no  more  the  residents  of  that  city  will  tell  the 
story  of  "  Old  Man  "  Willoughby,  of  Michigan. 

What  do  you  suppose  he  did?  No  effort  of  the 
imagination  can  carry  you  within  hailing  distance 
of  the  horrible  truth,  so  let  the  suspense  be  ended. 
Mr.  Willoughby,  with  his  own  hands,  helped  to  move 
the  furniture  from  the  old  Consulate  up  to  his  new 
residence.  He  put  the  table  on  top  of  his  head  and 
balanced  it  carefully  and  carried  it  through  the  open 
streets  of  Gallivancia !  An  official,  a  representative 
of  a  great  Power,  performing  cheap  manual  labour! 
Words  are  altogether  inadequate  to  describe  the 
109 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

degree  of  obloquy  which  Mr.  Willoughby  earned  for 
himself  by  this  unheard-of  exhibition.  In  Gallivancia 
it  was  not  considered  quite  the  thing  to  indulge  in 
mental  effort,  and  for  anyone  except  a  menial  of 
the  lowest  social  order  to  perform  physical  labour 


What  do  you  suppose  he  did? 

was  almost  inconceivable.  The  new  consul  was  set 
down  as  either  a  harmless  imbecile  or  an  altogether 
new  specimen  of  barbarian.  In  either  case  he  was 
not  a  fit  associate  for  well-bred  gentlemen,  and  Galli- 

110 


STORY  OF  AN  AMERICAN  CONSUL 

vancia  proceeded  to  ignore  him  and  "  Ma."  That 
is,  they  pretended  to  ignore  them,  but  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  they  watched  them  at  a  distance  and  heard 
daily  reports  of  their  familiarities  with  servants, 
their  fondness  for  outlandish  American  cookery,  and 
other  eccentricities.  It  was  all  vastly  diverting  to 
the  tiny  aristocrats  of  Gallivancia,  but  it  was  pretty 
hard  on  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Willoughby — homesick,  hun 
gry  for  spring  chicken  and  garden  truck,  and  yet 
ashamed  to  pick  up  and  go  home  so  soon  after  all 
those  elaborate  good-bys. 

One  morning  Mr.  Willoughby  walked  out  on  the 
veranda  of  his  hillside  cottage  and  looked  across 
the  harbour  and  saw  something  that  smote  him  with 
an  overpowering  joy.  A  white  cruiser,  flying  the 
Stars  and  Stripes,  had  steamed  through  the  narrow 
entrance  and  was  bearing  down  to  an  anchorage. 

"  Come  here,  mother !  "  he  shouted.  "  Come  here, 
if  you  want  to  see  something  that's  good  for  sore 
eyes ! " 

Mrs.  Willoughby  came  running,  and  nearly  ca 
reened  with  happiness.  There  it  was,  an  American 
war  vessel,  with  real  Yankees  on  board — boys  from 
home ;  boys  who  had  been  brought  up  to  believe  that 
a  man's  character  and  his  abilities  give  him  a  worth 
which  cannot  be  altered  by  putting  a  mere  handle 

ill 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

to  his  name.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Willoughby  were  eager 
to  go  down  and  call  on  the  "  folks  from  home." 
After  the  prolonged  boycott  which  had  been  hang 
ing  over  them  they  were  pining  for  white  society. 
Mr.  Willoughby  put  on  his  long  black  coat  and 
Mrs.  Willoughby  got  out  her  flowered  bonnet  and 
together  they  went  down  to  the  water  front — walked 
instead  of  going  as  they  should  have  gone,  in  one 
Df  the  decrepit  local  hacks.  Before  they  could 
charter  a  humble  rowboat  and  go  out  to  the  ship 
the  Governor  General  and  the  Lord  High  Com 
mander  of  the  Scow  and  the  Imperial  Collector  of 
Customs  and  all  the  other  residents  of  real  impor 
tance  had  gone  out  in  a  launch  and  taken  charge  of 
the  naval  officers.  Dinner  parties  and  a  ball  at  the 
"  Palace  "  were  arranged  at  once.  The  servant  at 
the  club  hurried  out  and  got  another  bottle  of  Scotch 
whiskey,  and  the  town  band  began  to  mobilise  at  a 
cafe.  Gallivancia  had  no  use  for  a  humble  American 
of  the  Willoughby  type,  but  it  gave  hysterical  wel 
come  to  the  splendid  war  vessel  and  the  natty  men 
in  uniform.  Over  the  first  drink  the  Americans  were 
told  the  remarkable  story  of  the  new  Consul  and  were 
assured  that  he  was  a  "  queer  sort."  And  the  naval 
officers,  being  accustomed  to  hearing  United  States 
consuls  maligned,  took  no  further  interest  in  their 

112 


STORY  OF  AN  AMERICAN  CONSUL 
government's  representative ;  merely  shook  hands 
with  him  when  he  came  aboard,  told  him  to  make  him 
self  at  home,  and  then  flocked  away  to  the  high 
lights  and  the  gayety  which  had  been  provided  for 
them  by  the  court  circles  of  Gallivancia. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Willoughby  found  themselves  side 
tracked,  and  they  went  back  home  not  daring  to 
talk  about  what  had  happened.  But  that  was  the 
day  which  caused  them  to  decide  to  go  back  to  Michi-*  * 
gan.  Mr.  Willoughby  wrote  to  the  State  Department 
and  said  that  the  climate  did  not  agree  with  him. 
And  when  they  sailed  away  "  Jim "  was  the  only 
person  who  came  to  the  dock  to  bid  them  good-by. 

As  the  "Ex-Consul  to  Gallivancia"  Mr.  Wil 
loughby  is  more  than  ever  an  honoured  figure  in  his 
own  town.  Doubtless  he  has  more  gray  matter, 
more  Christian  charity,  and  more  horse  sense  than 
could  be  collectively  assembled  by  all  the  petty 
officials  at  Gallivancia.  And  yet  Gallivancia  re 
garded  him  as  a  very  poor  excuse  for  a  Consul. 
The  naval  officers  saw  in  him  a  well-meaning  "  j  ay  " 
who  was  bringing  discredit  on  their  native  land  be 
cause  of  his  ignorance  of  social  forms. 

Therefore  let  us  send  out  Consuls  who  can  put  up 
a  "  front."  Have  each  Consul  wear  the  uniform  of 
a  drum  major.  Make  sure  that  he  can  dance  all 

113 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

night,  play  bridge,  and  keep  up  with  the  naval  crowd 
when  it  comes  to  drinking.  Let  him  be  haughty  with 
the  serving  classes,  but  jovial  with  the  military. 
Make  sure  that  he  is  averse  to  all  forms  of  labour. 
Such  a  Consul  will  shed  glory  upon  our  beloved 
country,  and  will  never  suffer  the  unhappy  fate  of 
"  Old  Man  "  Willoughby. 


114 


IN  NAPLES 


CHAPTER    X 

MR.    PEASLEY    AND    HIS    VIVID    IMPRES 
SIONS    OF    FOREIGN    PARTS 

IN  NAPLES— and  Mr.  Peasley  is  still  with  us. 

We  waited  for  him  in  London  until  he  recovered 
his  lost  trunk,  and  he  was  so  grateful  that  he  decided 
to  go  along  with  us. 

He  said  that  he  was  foot-loose  and  without  any 
definite  plans  and  it  always  made  him  feel  more  at 
home  to  travel  with  people  who  were  just  as  green 
and  as  much  scared  as  he  was. 

A  week  ago  we  were  in  London — sloshing  about 
in  the  damp  and  dismal  mixture  of  mud  and  snow 
which  lined  the  dark  thoroughfares. 

This  morning  we  are  basking  in  the  crystal  sun 
light  of  Naples — the  blue  bay,  with  the  crescent  out 
line  on  one  side,  the  white  walls  of  the  mounting  city 
on  the  other,  Vesuvius  looming  in  the  distance  behind 
a  hazy  curtain,  and  tourists  crowding  the  landscape 
in  the  immediate  foreground. 

Three  big  steamers  are  lying  at  anchor  within  the 
breakwater — one  from  Genoa,  one  from  Marseilles, 

117 


118 


MR.    PEASLEY'S    IMPRESSIONS 

and  one  from  New  York — and  all  heavily  laden  with 
Americans,  some  sixty  of  whom  will  be  our  fellow- 
passengers  to  Alexandria.  The  hotels  are  overflowing 
with  Yankee  pilgrims,  and  every  Neapolitan  who  has 
imitation  coral  and  celluloid  tortoise  shell  for  sale  is 
wearing  an  expectant  smile. 

The  jack-rabbit  horses  attached  to  the  ramshackle 
little  victorias  lean  wearily  in  their  shafts,  for  these 
are  busy  days.  The  harvest  days  are  at  hand.  The 
Americans  have  come.  An  English  woman  who  had 
seen  the  horde  in  the  streets  here  remarked  to  a  friend 
this  morning,  "  It  must  be  awfully  lonesome  in  Amer 
ica  just  at  present." 

And  she  meant  it,  too. 

It  has  been  a  fairly  busy  week  for  Mr.  Peasley. 
Mr.  Peasley  is  addicted  to  the  habit  of  taking  notes. 
Every  night  at  the  hotel  he  takes  out  a  small  leather- 
bound  book  presented  to  him  by  an  insurance  com 
pany  in  America  in  appreciation  of  the  fact  that  he 
has  paid  the  company  all  his  ready  money  for  the 
last  fifteen  years,  and  in  this  small  volume  he  jots 
down  brief  memoranda. 

Mr.  Peasley  has  a  terse  style.  Sometimes  he  uses 
abbreviations.  His  English  is  not  of  the  most  schol 
arly  brand.  As  he  is  merely  writing  for  himself,  it 
makes  no  difference. 

119 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

The  Peasley  notebook,  after  twenty  days  in 
Europe,  is  full  of  meaty  information,  and  contains 
many  a  flashlight  on  life  in  the  Old  World.  By  per 
mission  we  are  reproducing  it  herewith. 

LONDON 

"  By  Warrant. — Every  man  in  London  who  sells 
anything,  from  a  collar  button  to  a  chariot-and-f our, 
does  so  '  by  appointment '  or  'by  warrant.'  Poor 
man  opens  shop — business  bad.  He  is  trying  to  sell 
shaving  soap.  One  day  royal  personage  floats  in  and 
buys  a  cake  for  6d.,  whatever  that  means.  Dealer 
puts  out  gold  sign  to  the  effect  that  he  is  supplying 
the  royalty  with  lather.  Public  breaks  down  show 
cases  getting  at  his  merchandise.  All  true  democrats 
theoretically  ignore  this  second-hand  worship  of  roy 
alty,  but,  just  the  same,  take  notice  that  the  shops 
with  the  rared-up  unicorns  in  front  and  the  testi 
monials  from  their  Royal  Majesties  are  the  ones 
that  catch  the  humble  American  tourist. 

"  Opera  Hats. — Wandered  into  a  hat  store  and  dis 
covered,  to  my  amazement,  that  the  proprietor  was 
the  inventor  of  the  opera,  or  concertina,  hat.  Sur 
prised — always  supposed  that  at  least  a  dozen  men 
had  worked  on  it.  Establishment  had  documents  to 
prove  that  the  first  folding  hat  had  been  manufac- 

120 


MR.    PEASLEY'S    IMPRESSIONS 
tured  on  the  very  spot  where  I  stood.  Proprietor  has 
not  yet  been  knighted — probably  an  oversight. 

"  Rubber  Pavement. — The  large  covered  court  of 
the  Savoy  Hotel  is  paved  with  blocks  of  soft  rubber 
three  feet  square.  Constant  procession  of  cabs  in 
and  out  of  court,  and  rubber  deadens  sound.  Good 
idea — should  be  used  in  all  the  streets  of  New  York. 
New  cab  horse  jcomes  along — never  has  tackled  rub 
ber  pavement — is  clattering  noisily  over  the  as 
phalt — suddenly  hits  the  soft  rubber  and  begins  to 
bounce  up  and  down  like  a  tennis  ball.  Strange  look 
comes  into  horse's  eye  and  he  crouches  like  a  rabbit, 
looks  over  his  shoulder  at  the  driver,  and  seems  to  be 
asking,  'What  am  I  up  against?  '  Mean  trick  to 
play  on  a  green  horse.  Should  be  a  warning  sign 
displayed. 

"  Famine  in  Trousers. — One  type  of  English 
chappy,  too  old  for  bread  and  jam  and  not  quite  old 
enough  for  music  halls,  wears  extraordinary  trousers 
— legs  very  narrow  and  reefed  above  tops  of  shoes 
(I  mean  boots) — causes  them  to  look  thin  and  bird- 
like. 

"  English  Drama. — Saw  new  problem  play  last 
evening — new  play,  but  same  old  bunch  of  trouble. 
Each  principal  character  failed  to  marry  the  person 

121 


What  am  I  up  against?  " 


122 


MR.  PEASLEY'S  IMPRESSIONS 
of  the  opposite  sex  with  whom  he  or  she  was  really  in 
love.  Marriages  did  not  interfere  with  love  affairs, 
but  helped  to  complicate  the  plot.  Discovered  why 
we  can  never  have  a  great  native  drama  in  the  States 
—we  have  no  open  fireplaces  in  which  to  destroy  the 
incriminating  papers.  Impossible  to  destroy  papers 
at  a  steam  radiator. 

"  L.  C.  C. — In  musical  comedies,  pantomimes,  and 
at  music  halls,  many  sarcastic  references  to  L.  C.  C., 
meaning  London  County  Council.  Council  is  plough 
ing  open  new  streets,  tearing  down  old  buildings, 
putting  up  new  buildings,  and  spending  money  like 
a  sailor  on  a  holiday.  Their  extravagance  has  given 
great  offence  to  the  low  comedians  and  other  heavy 
rate  payers,  while  the  very  poor  people,  who  are  get 
ting  parks,  sunshine  and  shower  baths  free  of 
charge,  bless  the  L.  C.  C.  The  dress  coat  crowd  in  the 
theatres  seem  to  have  it  in  for  the  L.  C.  C.,  but  they 
are  very  strong  for  Mr.  Chamberlain,  notwithstand 
ing  his  recent  defeat.  Mr.  Chamberlain  seems  to  be 
a  great  deal  like  Mr.  Bryan — that  is,  nearly  everyone 
admires  him,  but  not  enough  people  vote  for  him.  In 
spite  of  protest  from  property  holders,  L.  C.  C.  is 
going  bravely  ahead  with  gigantic  task  of  modern 
ising  and  beautifying  London.  Asked  an  English 
man  why  there  was  so  much  criticism  of  L.  C.  C.  He 

123 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

said  if  you  touch  a  Britisher  in  the  region  of  his 
pocketbook  he  lets  out  a  holler  that  can  be  heard  in 
Labrador.  Didn't  use  those  words,  but  that's  what 
he  meant. 

"  Snowstorm. — Last  night  a  few  snowflakes 
drifted  into  Piccadilly  Circus;  hardly  enough  to 
cover  the  ground  this  morning,  but  everyone  is  talk 
ing  about  the  '  snowstorm.'  London  is  away  ahead  of 
us  on  fogs,  but  their  snowstorms  are  very  ama 
teurish. 

"  Coals. — Buying  my  coal  by  the  quart — forty 
cents  a  quart.  If  I  fed  the  fire  the  way  I  do  at  home 
would  spend  $100  a  day.  The  official  who  brings  fuel 
to  my  room  in  a  small  tin  measure  insists  upon  call 
ing  it  '  coals,'  but  I  didn't  think  there  was  enough  of 
it  to  justify  use  of  plural. 

PARIS 

"  Coming  Across. — The  turbine  boat  from  Dover 
to  Calais  ran  like  a  scared  deer  and  rolled  like  an 
intoxicated  duck.  Held  to  rail  all  the  way  across, 
looking  fixedly  at  oscillating  horizon  and  wondering 
why  I  had  left  home — bleak,  snowy  landscape  all  the 
way  from  Calais  to  Paris.  After  dinner  went  to 
music  hall  and  learned  that  Paris  could  be  fairly 
warm,  even  in  the  dead  of  winter. 

124 


MR.  PEASLEY'S  IMPRESSIONS 
"  Keeping  Tab  on  the  Cab. — The  '  taximetre  '  cab 
is  a  great  institution — small  clockwork  arrangement 
alongside  of  seat,  so  that  passenger  may  sit  and 
watch  the  indicator  and  know  how  his  bill  is  running 
up.  The  indicator  is  set  at  seventy-five  centimes  at 
the  start.  In  other  words,  you  owe  fifteen  cents  be 
fore  you  get  away.  Then  it  clicks  up  ten  centimes 
at  a  time,  and  when  you  reach  your  destination  there 
is  no  chance  for  an  argument  regarding  the  total. 
What  they  need  now  in  Paris  is  a  mechanism  to  pre 
vent  the  driver  from  taking  you  by  a  roundabout  way. 
"  Just  for  Fun. — Strange  epidemic  of  killing  in 
Paris.  Two  or  three  murders  every  night,  not  for 
revenge  or  in  furtherance  of  robbery,  but  merely  to 
gratify  a  morbid  desire  to  take  life.  Among  certain 
reckless  classes  of  toughs,  or  '  Hooligans,'  it  is  said 
to  be  quite  the  fashion  for  ambitious  characters  to 
go  out  at  night  and  kill  a  few  belated  pedestrians 
merely  in  a  spirit  of  bravado  and  to  build  up 
a  reputation  among  their  associates.  Seems  un 
fair  to  the  pedestrians.  At  one  of  the  thea 
tres  where  a  '  revue '  or  hodge-podge  '  take-off '  on 
topics  of  current  interest,  was  being  presented,  the 
new  type  of  playful  murderer  was  represented  as 
waiting  at  a  corner  and  shooting  up,  one  after 
another,  some  twenty-five  citizens  who  chanced  to 

125 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

stray  along.  This  performance  was  almost  as  good 
as  the  Buffalo  Bill  show  and  gave  much  delight  to 
the  audience. 

"  Costly  Slumber. — From  Paris  to  Marseilles  is 
about  as  far  as  from  Chicago  to  Pittsburg.  Sleeping 
car  fare  is  about  $10 ;  total  fare  by  night  train, 
about  $30.  Two  cents  a  pound  for  all  baggage  in 
excess  of  a  measly  fifty-six  pounds.  No  wonder  peo 
ple  travel  by  day  in  the  refrigerator  cars  and  try  to 
keep  warm  by  crawling  under  hundreds  of  pounds  of 
*  hand  luggage.'  Anything  with  a  handle  to  it  is 
'  hand  luggage.'  Some  of  the  cowhide  bags  must 
have  used  up  two  or  three  cows. 

"  Tea  Habit.  The  tea  habit  has  struck  Paris.  At 
Grand  Hotel  and  many  cafes  general  round-up  about 
five  in  the  afternoon,  everyone  gulping  tea  and  eat 
ing  cakes.  Not  as  demoralising  as  the  absinthe  habit, 
but  more  insidious. 

"  American  Music. — After  a  '  coon  '  song  has 
earned  a  pension  in  the  United  States  it  comes  over 
to  Paris  and  is  grabbed  up  as  a  startling  novelty. 
All  the  '  revues  '  studded  with  songs  popular  at  home 
about  two  years  ago — Frenchmen  believe  that  all 
Americans  devote  themselves,  day  in  and  day  out,  to 
accumulating  vast  wealth  and  singing  coon  songs. 

"  Oysters. — Went  to  famous  fish  and  oyster  res- 
126 


MR.  PEASLEY'S  IMPRESSIONS 
taurant  for  dinner.  The  Gallic  oyster  wears  a  deep 
blush  of  shame  and  tastes  like  the  day  after  taking 
calomel.  Thought  horseradish  might  improve,  mod 
ify  or  altogether  kill  the  taste,  so  I  tried  to  order 
some.  Knew  that  '  horse  '  was  '  cheveau  '  and  '  red  ' 
was  '  rouge,'  but  could  not  think  of  the  French  for 
'  ish,'  so  I  had  to  do  without.  Somewhat  discouraged 
about  my  French.  Almost  as  bad  as  former  Ameri 
can  Consul,  who,  after  eight  years  in  Paris,  had  to 
send  for  an  interpreter  to  find  out  what  *  qui ' 
meant.  Have  got  fi  merci '  down  pat,  but  still  pro 
nounce  it  *  mercy.' 

MARSEILLES 

"  More  Snow. — The  further  south  we  go  the  colder 
the  weather  and  the  deeper  the  snow.  Getting  my 
furs  ready  for  Cairo.  Ten  hours  on  the  train  from 
Paris  to  Marseilles,  wrapped  in  a  blanket  and  count 
ing  the  warts  on  a  foreign  commercial  traveller  who 
sat  opposite.  No  two  counts  agreed.  Had  looked  for 
ward  during  a  long  month  to  this  ride  through 
sunny  France.  Had  dreamed  of  green  landscapes 
that  lay  smiling  in  the  genial  warmth,  the  stately 
poplars  leading  away  to  purple  hills,  and  the  happy 
labourers  looking  up  from  their  toil  in  the  fields  to 
smile  at  us  and  bid  us  welcome  as  we  flashed  by.  Not 
a  bit  like  it.  More  on  the  order  of  North  Dakota. 

127 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Everybody  says  it  is  the  coldest  snap  that  Southern 
France  has  known  in  many  years.  They  saved  up  all 
their  cold  weather  so  as  to  hand  it  to  me  when  I  came 
along. 

"  Bouillabaisse  (spelling  not  guaranteed). — There 
is  only  one  thing  to  do  in  Marseilles,  and  that  is  to 
drive  out  to  an  excellent  restaurant  built  on  a  rock 
overlooking  the  bay  and  partake  of  bouillabaisse. 
Dish  famed  in  song  and  story.  Mentioned  often  in 
'  Trilby.5  Possibly  that  is  what  ailed  Svengali.  The 
bouillabaisse  and  the  '  Marseillaise  '  were  both  in 
vented  in  Marseilles.  The  mayonnaise  comes  from 
elsewhere.  The  bouillabaisse  is  a  combination  of 
soup,  ragout,  chowder,  and  New  England  boiled  din 
ner.  There  are  many  ingredients.  It  is  said  they  put 
in  whatever  they  have  the  most  of — sea  bass,  lobsters, 
crayfish,  vegetables,  sauces — everything  except  the 
license.  Liked  the  taste  very  much — first  when  I  ate 
it,  and  then  all  during  the  afternoon  and  evening. 

"  Chateau  d'lf. — Coming  out  of  the  harbour  we 
ran  very  close  to  the  Chateau  d'lf,  a  stern  fortress 
prison  topping  a  huge  rock  rising  sharply  from  the 
bay.  Count  of  Monte  Cristo  was  imprisoned  here. 
Man  on  board  said  that  the  character  of  Edmund 
Dantes  was  wholly  fictitious,  manufactured  by  Du 
mas.  Must  be  a  mistake,  as  I  saw  the  small  rock  on 

128 


MR.    PEASLEY'S    IMPRESSIONS 
which  James  O'Neill  used  to  stand  at  the  end  of  the 
first  act  and  exclaim,  '  The  world  is  mine !  '  It  is  ex 
actly  as  represented  on  the  stage,  except  for  the 
calcium  light. 

NAPLES 

"  The  Ship's  Barber. — Coming  across  from  Mar 
seilles  in  the  dampfer  (Germ,  for  boat)  the  weather 
moderated  so  that  I  needed  only  one  overcoat.  Got 
acquainted  with  barber.  Often  have  some  trouble  in 
making  up  with  a  captain,  but  can  usually  hit  it  off 
with  the  barber.  A  good  barber  is  a  bureau  of  infor 
mation,  headquarters  for  scandal,  and  knows  what 
the  run  is  going  to  be.  The  barber  on  our  dampfer 
no  good.  Shy  on  conversation,  but  great  on  arith-- 
metic.  Charged  me  two  francs  for  a  shave,  and  when 
I  suggested  that  he  was  rather  high  he  said  he  was 
compelled  to  ask  one  franc  and  thirty  centimes  for 
the  extract  of  vanilla  he  had  put  on  my  hair.  Told 
him  I  did  not  want  any  extract  of  vanilla,  but  he  said 
there  was  no  way  of  getting  it  back  into  the  bottle. 
Besides,  he  had  the  money,  so  we  compromised  by 
permitting  him  to  keep  it.  Said  he  longed  to  go  to 
America.  I  told  him  there  would  probably  be  an  open 
ing  in  America  for  anyone  so  energetic  and  muscular, 
and  I  promised  to  give  him  a  letter  to  Armour  &  Co., 
of  Chicago. 

129 


Promised  him  a  letter  to  Armour  fy  Co.,  Chicago 
130 


MR.    PEASLEY'S    IMPRESSIONS 

"  Free  Fireworks. — A  full  hundred  miles  out  at 
sea  we  could  make  out  an  irregular  oval  of  fire  sus 
pended  in  the  sky — the  two  streams  of  lava  now 
trickling  down  Vesuvius.  Finest  landmark  and  sail 
ing  target  a  sailor  could  ask  for.  When  we  were 
forty  miles  away  we  wanted  the  captain  to  slow  up 
for  fear  he  would  run  into  the  mountain  and  injure 
it.  Next  morning  in  harbour  we  discovered  that  we 
were  still  ten  miles  away  from  it. 

"  The  New  Naples. — In  ten  years  Naples  has  done 
a  lot  of  sprucing  up.  Streets  are  cleaner,  new  and 
pretentious  buildings  have  multiplied,  smells  have 
been  eliminated.  Guides,  beggars  and  cabmen  not  so 
pestiferous  as  of  yore,  but  still  bad  enough  to  deserve 
electrocution,  provided  some  more  lingering  form  of 
death  could  not  be  substituted.  Cabmen  seemed 
downcast.  Municipality  recently  forbade  any  extra 
charge  for  cab  service  on  a  fiesta,  or  holiday.  In 
Italy  300  days  out  of  every  365  can  be  rung  in 
under  the  head  of  fiestas.  Every  American  who 
landed  in  Naples  found  himself  right  in  the  midst  of 
a  fiesta  and  had  to  pay  two  fares,  or  as  much  as 
thirty  cents  in  gold,  to  ride  around  in  one  of  the 
open  hacks.  Thirty  cents  would  seem  a  reasonable 
charge,  but  not  after  you  have  seen  the  hack.  The 
smaller  the  horse  in  Naples  the  heavier  the  harness. 

131 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Evidently    a   desire   to   have   about   the   same   total 
weight  in  each  case. 

"  Emigrants. — Alongside  of  our  ship  lay  a  German 
steamer  about  to  sail  for  America.  The  tender  made 
trips  to  and  from  the  dock,  and  every  time  she  came 
out  she  was  filled  to  the  last  inch  with  Italian  emi 
grants.  We  saw  hundreds  of  them  disappear  into  the 
ship,  so  many  it  seemed  they  must  have  been  packed 
in  below  by  hydraulic  pressure,  otherwise  there 
wouldn't  have  been  room  for  them.  All  headed  for 
the  land  of  the  free  to  build  railroads.  Englishman 
wanted  to  know  why  there  was  such  heavy  emigrant 
traffic  at  this  particular  season.  Told  him  they  were 
hurrying  over  to  vote  at  the  April  election  in  Chi 
cago.  He  believed  it.  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe  it 
myself." 

This  is  Mr.  Peasley's  notebook  up  to  the  present 
moment,  just  as  we  are  departing  for  Alexandria. 
He  admits  that  he  may  have  overlooked  a  few  minor 
points  of  interest,  but  he  more  than  made  up  by 
neglecting  to  mention  Napoleon's  tomb  or  the  Moulin 
Rouge. 

Since  arriving  in  Naples  this  morning  Mr.  Peasley 
has  arranged  with  the  tourist  agency  to  change  his 
ticket,  and  he  will  accompany  us  to  Egypt. 

132 


IN    CAIRO 


CHAPTER    XI 

CAIRO  AS  THE  ANNUAL  STAMPING  GROUND 

FOR  AMERICANS  AND  WHY  THEY 

MAKE  THE  TRIP 

'IT'S  a  small  world." 

This  is  one  of  the  overworked  phrases  of  the  globe 
trotter.  It  is  used  most  frequently  by  those  who  fol 
low  the  beaten  paths.  In  other  words,  we  find  it  diffi 
cult  to  get  away  from  our  acquaintances.  Not  that 
we  wish  to  get  away  from  them ;  on  the  contrary,  when 
we  are  stumbling  along  some  unfamiliar  thorough 
fare  six  thousand  miles  from  home  and  bump  into  a 
man  with  whom  we  have  a  nodding  acquaintance  in 
Chicago,  we  fall  upon  his  neck  and  call  him  brother. 
It  must  be  very  annoying  to  criminals  and  celebrities 
who  are  trying  to  hide  their  identities,  but  to  the 
ordinary  traveller  it  is  always  a  glad  surprise  to  find 
a  friend  coming  right  out  of  the  ground  in  a  corner 
of  the  world  supposed  to  be  given  over  to  strangers. 

There  are  certain  spots  on  the  earth  which  may 
be  classed  as  definite  headquarters  for  wanderers.  It 
is  said  that  in  the  summer  season  any  person  of  any 

135 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

nationality  who  seats  himself  in  front  of  the  Cafe  de 
la  Paix  in  Paris  may  confidently  gamble  on  hailing 
an  acquaintance  in  less  than  fifteen  minutes.  Trafal 
gar  Square,  in  London,  is  called  by  the  Britishers 
the  actual  kernel  of  civilisation.  The  long  corridor 


Very  annoying  to  criminals  and  celebrities 

of  the  Waldorf  is  the  temporary  abode  of  folks  from 
almost  everywhere.  The  big  "  front  porch  "  here  at 
Shepheard's  Hotel,  in  Cairo,  will  surely  have  two  or 
three  friends  waiting  for  you  when  you  arrive.  The 

136 


CAIRO    AS    A    STAMPING    GROUND  . 

Grand  Hotel,  in  Yokohama,  has  been  for  many  years 
a  sort  of  clearing-house  for  travellers — circumnavi 
gators  moving  aside  to  let  the  other  crowd  pass. 
Then  there  is  (was,  alas !)  the  Palace,  in  San  Fran 
cisco,  and  the  Auditorium,  in  Chicago — definite  rally 
ing  points  for  mortals  who  move  about. 

It  is  when  we  meet  our  long-lost  friend  in  the 
remote  by-way  that  we  are  induced  to  throw  up  our 
hands  and  exclaim,  "  The  world  is  small." 

For  instance,  before  the  German  steamer  left 
Naples  for  Alexandria  a  launch  load  of  new  passen 
gers  came  aboard.  As  we  were  heading  out  of  the 
bay  and  almost  under  the  shadow  of  Capri  I  glanced 
at  the  man  in  the  adjoining  steamer  chair  and  recog 
nised  the  banker  from  Tien-tsin.  He  was  just  as 
much  surprised  as  I  was. 

About  a  year  ago  we  parted  at  San  Francisco 
after  a  long  and  pleasant  voyage  from  Shanghai — 
he  to  continue  a  leisurely  trip  around  the  world,  I  to 
carry  my  priceless  treasures  of  Oriental  art  and 
shattered  letter  of  credit  back  to  Indiana.  When  we 
parted  there  was  the  usual  stereotyped  remark  about 
meeting  again,  but  neither  of  us  believed  that  there 
was  one  chance  in  a  million  of  our  paths  crossing,  it 
being  a  far  cry  from  Tien-Tsin  to  Terre  Haute.  I 
don't  know  what  a  "  far  cry  "  is,  but  I  have  come 

137 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

across  it  in  some  of  our  most  opaque  disserta 
tions,  and  accordingly  I  welcomed  the  opportunity 
to  use  it. 

The  man  from  Tien-Tsin  had  loitered  in  Europe 
and  was  now  heading  straight  for  China.  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  in  a  hurry  to  go  to  Egypt  to  help  10,000 
other  students  investigate  the  tombs,  and  here  we 
were,  side  by  side,  in  the  Mediterranean. 

A  few  minutes  after  colliding  with  him  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  a  young  woman  who  said  that  she 
was  the  sister  of  Henry  Billkamp,  of  Chicago.  She 
asked  me  if  I  remembered  the  circumstances  under 
which  I  met  Henry,  and  I  told  her  that  I  couldn't 
very  well  forget  them. 

A  few  years  ago  in  Chicago  I  resided  in  a  large  es 
tablishment  which  had  as  an  auxiliary  feature  a  fine 
Turkish  bath.  Many  of  our  best  people  would  come 
to  the  bath  every  afternoon,  first  steaming  themselves 
in  the  vapour  room,  then  scrubbing  themselves,  then  a 
shower,  and  after  that  a  plunge — by  which  time  most 
of  the  coal  dust  could  be  removed.  Henry  Billkamp 
came  to  the  bath  one  afternoon  and  brought  with  him 
a  suit  case  containing  his  evening  clothes  and  acces 
sories.  Henry  was  to  be  married  the  next  day,  and 
that  evening  he  and  the  bride  elect  were  to  be  guests 
at  a  large  dinner  party  on  the  south  side.  Henry 

138 


CAIRO    AS    A    STAMPING    GROUND 

looked  at  his  watch  and  found  that  he  could  loll 
around  the  bath  for  an  hour  before  jumping  into 
his  evening  clothes.  So  he  put  his  suit  case  over  in 
one  corner  of  a  dressing-room,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
had  joined  the  informal  circle  which  was  commonly 
known  as  the  "  Perspiration  Club." 

It  may  be  said  in  passing  that  Henry  was  a  very 
estimable  young  man  of  first-class  abilities  and  that 
he  was  built  on  the  general  outlines  of  a  flagpole. 
He  pierced  the  atmosphere  for  a  considerable  dis 
tance,  in  an  up  and  down  direction,  but  he  never 
blocked  the  view  of  any  person  who  chanced  to  be 
standing  behind  him. 

While  Henry  Billkamp  was  in  the  steam  chamber 
engaged  in  the  superfluous  task  of  further  reducing 
himself,  Bob  Grimley  came  into  the  bath  department 
carrying  a  suit  case.  The  suit  case  habit  is  very 
strongly  intrenched  in  busy  towns.  To  go  all  the  way 
out  home  and  then  come  back  would  use  up  two 
hours. 

Bob  Grimley  was  a  short  man,  weighing  about  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  and  shaped  like  an  olive. 
He  wanted  his  vapour  in  a  hurry,  because  he  had  to 
grab  a  train  and  go  away  out  to  Oak  Park  and  then 
dress  in  a  hurry  and  have  a  bite  of  dinner  and  play 
poker.  So  he  made  a  running  splash  and  jump 

139 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

through  the  bath  department,  came  out,  hopped  into 
his  garments,  picked  up  Henry  Billkamp's  suit  case, 
and  rushed  away  to  Oak  Park. 

It  was  half  past  six  when  Henry  Billkamp  arose 
from  the  plunge  and  hurried  to  the  dressing-room. 
The  dinner  was  to  be  at  seven.  He  opened  the  suit 
case  and  began  to  take  out  balloon-shaped  garments, 
and  then  he  shrieked  for  an  attendant.  Where  was 
his  suit  case?  No  one  seemed  to  know.  Oh,  yes;  Mr. 
Grimley  had  come  out  of  that  room  with  a  suit  case 
and  had  gone — no  one  knew  whither.  Henry  stood 
there  with  a  huge  article  of  raiment  clutched  in  each 
hand  and  slowly  froze  with  horror  as  a  full  under 
standing  of  the  situation  grew  upon  him.  In  less  than 
a  half -hour  he  must  join  them — bride,  relatives, 
friends.  The  lights  were  already  up,  the  flowers  on 
the  table,  the  wine  cooling,  the  carriages  beginning 
to  arrive.  It  was  to  be  the  night  of  his  life.  Could  he 
appear  at  this  glittering  function  as  a  chief  attrac 
tion  in  an  eight  dollar  sack  suit  and  make  some  lame 
explanation  about  losing  his  other  things  in  a  Turk 
ish  bath?  He  had  an  old  suit  at  home,  but  he  was 
miles  from  home.  The  carriage  man  sent  in  word  that 
Mr.  Grimley  and  suit  case  had  gone  to  a  railway 
station.  That  settled  it.  Henry  decided  to  jump  into 
the  plunge  and  end  it  all. 

140 


CAIRO    AS    A    STAMPING    GROUND 

While  he  was  lamenting,  a  friend  came  in  from 
another  dressing-room  to  find  out  what  was  the  mat 
ter.  Henry,  scantily  attired,  leaned  against  the  wall 
and  in  a  voice  choked  with  sobs  and  cuss  words  out 
lined  his  frightful  predicament.  The  friend,  listen 
ing,  suddenly  emitted  a  glad  shout. 

"  I  have  it !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  There's  only  one 
man  in  all  the  world  with  a  figure  anything  like 
yours,  and  he  happens  to  be  right  here  in  the  build 
ing.  Come !  Get  into  a  dressing  gown.  We  have 
twenty  minutes  !  We  can  make  it.  Come !  " 

A  few  seconds  later  two  agitated  persons,  one  at 
tired  and  the  other  semi,  burst  into  my  room.  It  was 
a  long  story,  but  could  they  borrow  an  assortment  of 
evening  clothes?  Could  they?  I  was  delighted  to 
know  that  someone  in  the  world  wanted  to  wear  that 
suit. 

No  fireman  going  to  a  fire  ever  dressed  himself 
with  such  rapidity  as  we  dressed  the  hysterical  Henry. 
Everything  fitted  him  perfectly.  Shirt,  collar,  trou 
sers,  waistcoat,  swallowtail,  opera  hat,  tie,  gloves, 
studs,  buttons — everything  just  his  size.  Nothing  in 
the  outfit  had  ever  fitted  me,  but  when  we  got  through 
with  Henry  he  was  beyond  criticism.  He  actually 
wept  with  joy  as  we  ran  him  out  to  the  carriage  and 
boosted  him  in  and  started  him  southward,  with 

141 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

eleven  minutes  to  spare.  He  arrived  on  the  dot.  For 
weeks  afterward  he  would  sit  down  every  day  and 
write  me  a  letter  of  thanks  and  declare  that  he  would 
never  forget  me  and  the  service  I  had  done  him.  Of 
course,  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to  for 
get  anyone  who  had  looked  well  in  my  evening  clothes, 
and  it  was  a  positive  pleasure  to  meet  Henry's  sister. 
She  said  she  had  long  desired  to  have  a  look  at  me. 
She  had  not  believed  it  possible  that  there  was  another 
living  mortal  whose  clothes  would  fit  Henry,  but  now 
she  saw  that  she  had  been  mistaken. 

It  is  flattering  to  learn  that  people  we  have  never 
met  have  been  interested  in  us  for  a  long  time.  Con 
tinuing  the  same  line  of  thought,  it  is  often  disap 
pointing  to  learn  that  the  people  most  deeply 
interested  in  us  are  those  who  have  never  met  us. 
For  fear  of  getting  mixed  up,  let  us  return  to  the 
boat. 

Our  principal  cargo  was  honeymoon.  We  had  six 
newly  married  couples,  who  were  advertising  to  all 
the  world  the  fact  of  their  sudden  happiness,  and 
three  other  couples  were  under  suspicion.  The  men 
lounged  in  the  smoking-room,  as  if  to  give  the  im 
pression  that  they  were  hardened  in  matrimony,  but 
they  peeked  out  through  the  portholes  too  often  and 
made  many  trips  to  the  deck. 

142 


CAIRO  AS  A  STAMPING  GROUND 
One  German  couple  was  the  most  newly  married 
team  that  any  of  us  had  ever  seen.  I  don't  think  they 
knew  they  were  in  a  boat.  They  may  have  suspected, 
but  it  really  didn't  make  any  difference.  They  were 
in  a  trance,  riding  on  a  cloud  of  incense,  saturated 


Three  other  couples  under  suspicion 

with  bliss.  He  was  middle  aged,  with  red  flaring  whis 
kers,  and  a  nose  showing  an  angular  break  in  the 
middle.  She  was  short  and  plump,  with  a  shiny,  oil- 
finish  countenance.  Neither  had  been  constructed  ac- 

143 


IN   PASTURES    NEW 

cording  to  the  plans  and  specifications  of  Love's 
Young  Dream,  and  yet  the  devouring  adoration 
which  played  back  and  forth  between  Romeo  and 
Juliet  was  almost  icy  compared  with  this  special 
brand  of  Teutonic  love.  They  were  seldom  more  than 
three  inches  apart,  he  gazing  into  her  eyes  with  a 
yearning  that  was  unutterable  (even  in  German)  and 
she  gazing  right  back  at  him  in  blushing  rapture  and 
seeming  to  say  to  herself : — "  Just  think !  He  belongs 
to  me,  whiskers  and  all !  "  It  was  almost  enough  to 
induce  one  to  get  married. 

They  were  drifting  so  far  above  the  earth  that 
they  forgot  to  be  seasick.  The  other  honeymooners 
took  to  their  cabins. 

Is  there  anything  so  perverse,  so  whimsical,  so 
tantalising,  and  so  full  of  surprises  as  our  old  friend 
the  weather?  When  the  warm  sunshine  trickled  down 
our  backs  in  Naples  we  rejoiced  and  said,  "  At  last 
we  have  found  summer."  We  looked  forward  to  three 
balmy  days  on  the  blue  Mediterranean,  and  even  be 
gan  to  remember  where  we  had  packed  the  summer 
clothes  at  the  bottom  of  the  trunk.  During  the  first 
night  out  we  passed  between  Scylla  and  Charybdis. 
They  sound  like  a  team  of  acrobats,  but  really  they 
are  the  promontories  guarding  the  narrow  Strait  of 
Messina.  It  was  pitch  dark  when  we  passed,  and  we 

144 


CAIRO    AS    A    STAMPING    GROUND 
had  turned  in,  but  we  read  about  them  in  Baedeker 
next  morning  and  were  much  gratified  to  know  that 


we  had  been  so  near  them.  Not  that  we 
them,  but  hereafter  we  can  refer  to  them. 

After  we  rounded  the  south  coast  of  Italy 
145 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

pointed  for  Alexandria,  we  ran  into  a  mess  of 
weather  that  had  lost  its  bearings  and  wandered  down 
from  the  north  Atlantic.  The  wind  blew  a  gale.  We 
sat  huddled  in  our  heaviest  wraps.  The  good  ship 
pitched  and  pitched,  and  then  pitched  some  more. 
And  this  was  the  Mediterranean!  We  had  promised 
ourselves  to  lie  basking  in  the  gentle  warmth  and 
count  the  lateen  sails  as  they  went  drifting  by.  We 
had  expected  to  see  the  whole  surface  of  the  Mediter 
ranean  almost  as  busy  as  State  and  Madison,  or 
Broadway  and  Forty-second — craft  of  all  descrip 
tions  criss-crossing  the  blue  ripples,  a  continuous 
aquatic  bioscope.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  rode  for 
three  days  across  waters  as  lonesome  and  empty  as 
those  of  the  north  Pacific,  where  the  course  is  so  clear 
that  the  captain,  after  putting  to  sea,  can  tie  the 
wheel  and  go  below  and  play  dominoes. 

Our  chilly  voyage  from  Naples  to  Alexandria  has 
suggested  a  few  reflections  on  travel  in  general.  Why 
the  Anglo-Saxon  passion  for  gadding  about?  Cairo 
to-day  is  absolutely  congested  with  Americans.  The 
continent  of  Europe  is  two  days  away  by  speedy 
boat ;  Paris  is  two  days  more,  and  London  less  than 
a  week  by  ordinary  modes  of  travel.  America  lies 
three  thousand  miles  beyond  the  most  remote  Euro 
pean  city  and  across  stormy  waters,  and  yet  America 

146 


CAIRO    AS    A    STAMPING   GROUND 

seems  to  claim  a  plurality  of  all  the  transients.  If 
an  Egyptian  began  to  pack  up  his  things  to  take  a 
four  thousand  mile  jump  to  look  at  the  stock  yards 
of  Chicago  or  the  Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky,  his 
friends  would  have  him  consigned  to  some  Mohamme 
dan  institution  for  the  treatment  of  those  mentally 
deranged.  But  the  Americans  are  here  in  flocks, 
droves,  coveys — decrepit  old  people;  blooming  debu 
tantes,  boys  just  out  of  college,  tired-out  business 
men,  women  who  have  been  studying  Egypt  at  their 
clubs,  and,  of  course,  the  8000  (more  or  less)  newly 
married  couples.  And  most  of  them  are  working  like 
farm  hands  to  generate  some  real  enthusiasm  for 
tombs  and  hieroglyphics.  Hard  pulling,  but  they  will 
make  it  if  their  legs  hold  out. 

What  is  the  charm — the  siren  call  of  Egypt — that 
has  lured  these  thousands  so  far  away  from  home 
and  friends?  It  is  not  climate,  for  we  have  a  better 
climate  of  our  own.  If  the  traveller  seeks  merely 
warmth  and  sunshine,  he  can  find  them  in  Southern 
California,  the  West  Indies,  or  at  Palm  Beach.  It  is 
not  a  genuine  and  deep-seated  interest  in  ancient  rec 
ords,  inasmuch  as  ninety  per  cent,  of  the  fresh 
arrivals  from  America  do  not  know  the  difference 
between  a  cartouche  and  a  scarab.  I  know,  because  I 
looked  it  up  yesterday.  It  is  not  a  snobbish  desire  to 

147 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

rub  up  against  the  patchouli  and  rice  powder  of 
European  hothouse  aristocracy,  because  nearly  all 
of  the  Americans  flock  by  themselves  and  make  dis 
paraging  remarks  about  other  nationalities,  and  vice 
versa. 

No  doubt  the  one  great  reward  of  the  persistent 
traveller  is  to  find  new  varieties  of  his  fellow  man. 
Cairo  is  the  pousse  cafe  of  humanity — probably  the 
most  cosmopolitan  city  in  the  world.  The  guide  books 
talk  about  rock  tombs  and  mosques,  but  the  travellers 
find  their  real  enjoyment  in  the  bazaars  and  along  the 
crowded  streets  and  on  the  sheer  banks  of  the  Nile, 
which  stand  out  as  an  animated  panorama  for  hun 
dreds  of  miles.  The  first  hour  in  Cairo  is  compensa 
tion  for  many  an  hour  of  tedious  travel.  Once  more 
in  the  sunshine,  the  soft  but  gamey  flavour  of  Orien 
talism  soothing  the  nostrils,  a  lively  chatter  of  unfa 
miliar  languages ;  an  interweaving  throng  of  turbans, 
gowns,  fezes,  swarthy  faces ;  the  pattering  hoof- 
beats  of  spangled  donkeys  and  the  stealthy  sweep  of 
dignified  camels — so  much  to  see  that  one  needs  four 
pairs  of  eyes  to  catch  all  parts  of  the  picture  and  at 
least  a  half-dozen  fountain  pens  to  keep  score  of  the 
attractions. 

The  first  hour  in  a  new  land!  It  is  that  which 
repays  the  patient  traveller.  It  gives  him  the  gasping 

148 


CAIRO    AS    A    STAMPING    GROUND 

surprises  and  the  twinges  of  delight  which  are  not  to 
be  found  in  southern  California  or  at  Palm  Beach. 
And  it  is  the  very  first  hour  which  is  memorable  and 
crowded  with  large  emotions.  Because,  after  about 
two  hours,  the  American  has  adapted  himself  to  his 
new  environment,  and  is  beginning  to  be  blase.  Along 
about  the  second  day,  when  the  guide  attempts  to 
dazzle  him  by  showing  another  variety  of  bazaar  he 
murmurs  "  Chestnut  "  and  suggests  going  back  to 
the  hotel. 

It  may  afford  consolation  to  the  large  number  of 
people  who  remain  at  home  to  know  that  only  about 
five  per  cent,  of  foreign  travel  is  really  worth  while. 
Mr.  Emerson's  beautiful  law  of  compensation  holds 
true  in  regard  to  travel  just  as  it  applies  to  all  other 
things  that  are  coveted  by  mortals.  You  must  pay 
for  what  you  get,  not  in  money  alone,  but  in  hard 
ships,  annoyances,  and  long  periods  of  dumb,  patient 
waiting. 

The  better  half  of  one  of  the  honeymoon  combina 
tions  that  came  with  us  from  Naples  told  a  plaintive 
story.  She  had  been  travelling  for  three  weeks  in 
weather  that  had  been  a  crescendo  of  the  disagreeable. 
All  the  way  across  the  Atlantic  she  had  been  desper 
ately  ill  in  her  cabin.  In  London  they  found  fogs.  In 
Paris  it  rained.  And  now  they  were  fighting  their 

149 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

way  through  a  storm  in  the  Mediterranean.  Notwith 
standing  all  this,  she  was  trying  to  be  cheerful,  for 
she  believed  that  she  would  like  Egypt. 

The  blessedness  of  travel  is  that  when  the  sun 
comes  from  behind  the  cloud  and  a  new  city  begins  to 
arise  from  the  sea,  we  forget  all  the  gloomy  days 
on  board  ship,  all  the  crampy  rides  in  the  stuffy  rail 
way  compartments,  all  the  overcharges  and  vexations 
and  harassments  and  get  ready  to  tear  ashore  and 
explore  a  new  wonderland. 

Who  can  forget  the  first  hour  of  the  first  railway 
ride  through  rural  England?  The  storybook  pictures 
that  you  have  seen  all  your  life  come  true  at  last. 

Or  the  first  hour  in  London  ?  That  tall  thing  loom 
ing  right  in  front  of  you  is  really  the  Nelson  monu 
ment  and  not  a  papier  mache  deception  put  up  for 
the  entertainment  of  tourists. 

In  the  first  hour  of  'rickshaw  riding  in  Japan  I 
saw  so  much  that  was  funny  and  fantastic  and  nerve 
kinking  that  at  the  end  of  the  ride  I  wanted  to  pay 
the  coolie  for  a  year  instead  of  an  hour. 

And  how  about  the  first  hour  up  the  Grand  Canal 
in  Venice?  Or  the  first  hour  in  the  tangled  bedlam 
of  Canton?  Or  the  first  hour  in  front  of  Shepheard's 
Hotel,  here  in  Cairo,  when  it  really  seems  that  a  won 
derful  pageant  has  been  ordered  for  your  special 

150 


CAIRO   AS   A   STAMPING   GROUND 
joy?  With  bulging  eyes  and  reeling  senses  you  view 
the  changing  kaleidoscope  and  ask,  in  the  language 
of  Mr.  Peasley,  "  Is  this  on  the  level?  " 

Yes,  travel  is  hard  work,  and  your  true  traveller 
is  a  mighty  grumbler,  but  he  goes  on  buoyed  always 
by  the  hope  of  another  "  first  hour." 


151 


CHAPTER    XII 

ROUND  ABOUT  CAIRO,  WITH  AND  WITHOUT 

THE    ASSISTANCE    OF    THE    DRAGOMAN 

OR  SIMON  LEGREE  OF  THE  ORIENT 

MR.  PEASLEY  is  a  secretive  student  of  the  guide 
book. 

He  reads  up  beforehand  and  on  the  quiet.  Then 
when  we  come  face  to  face  with  some  "  sight "  and 
are  wondering  about  this  or  that,  Mr.  Peasley  opens 
the  floodgate  of  his  newly-acquired  knowledge  and 
deluges  the  whole  party.  He  is  seldom  correct,  and 
never  accurate,  but  he  knows  that  he  is  dealing 
with  an  ignorance  more  profound  than  his  own,  and 
that  gives  him  confidence. 

For  instance,  the  first  afternoon  in  Cairo  we 
chartered  an  open  conveyance  and  rode  out  to  the 
citadel  and  the  mosque  of  Mohammed  Ali,  both  of 
which  are  perched  on  a  high  limestone  cliff  overlook 
ing  the  city.  The  mosque  is  modern  and  very  gorge 
ous  with  alabaster  columns,  a  profusion  of  gay  rugs, 
stained  windows,  and  crystal  chandeliers.  We  were 
rhapsodising  over  the  interior  and  were  saying  it  was 
almost  as  swell  and  elegant  as  the  new  Claypool  Hotel 

152 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

in  Indianapolis,  when  we  happened  to  overhear  one  of 
our  countrywomen  reading  aloud  from  a  very  enter 
taining  book  on  Egypt  written  thirty  years  ago  by 
Amelia  B.  Edwards.  Miss  Edwards  allowed  that  the 
mosque  of  Mohammed  Ali  was  a  tawdry  and  hideous 
specimen  of  the  most  decadent  period  of  the  mixed- 
up  architectures  imported  from  Araby  and  Turkey. 
When  we  heard  that  we  made  a  quick  switch  and 
began  to  find  fault  with  the  decorations  and  told  the 
guide  we  had  enough. 

On  the  way  out  to  the  parapet  to  enjoy  the  really 
wonderful  view  of  the  city  and  the  Nile  Valley,  with 
the  pyramids  lifting  themselves  dimly  from  the  old 
gold  haze  of  the  desert,  Mr.  Peasley  wished  to  repay 
the  lady  who  had  read  to  us,  so  he  paused,  and, 
making  a  very  indefinite  and  non-committal  gesture, 
said,  "  Near  this  very  spot  Mohammed  Ali  killed 
more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  mamelukes  in  one 
day." 

Our  fair  countrywoman  looked  at  Mr.  Peasley  with 
a  puzzled  frown  on  her  brow  and  then  timidly  asked, 
"  What  is  a  mameluke?  " 

We  thought  she  had  him,  but  not  so.  He  wasn't 
even  f eazed.  He  replied  promptly,  "  A  mameluke  is 
something  like  a  mongoose,  only  larger." 

That  is  Mr.  Peasley's  way.  If  he  doesn't  know,  at 
153 


154 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

least  he  will  make  a  stab  at  it.  One  evening  at  dinner 
we  had  anchovies  as  a  curtain  raiser,  and  a  man  sit 
ting  next  to  Mr.  Peasley  poked  at  the  briny  minnows 
with  his  fork  and  asked,  "  What  are  these?  " 

"  Those  are  anchorites,"  replied  Mr.  Peasley,  with 
out  the  slightest  hesitation. 

As  a  rule  he  gets  one  syllable  right,  which  is  pretty 
good  for  him.  At  present  he  is  much  interested  in 
the  huge  dams  of  masonry  and  iron  gates  that  have 
been  thrown  across  the  Nile  at  Assiut  and  Assouan. 
Over  here  they  are  called  "  barrages."  Mr.  Peasley 
insists  upon  calling  them  "  garages."  We  tried  to 
explain  to  him  that  a  garage  was  a  place  where  auto 
mobiles  were  cared  for,  but  he  said  that  automobile 
and  "  dam  "  belonged  in  the  same  category  and  often 
meant  practically  the  same  thing,  so  he  continues  to 
speak  of  the  "  garage." 

By  the  way,  when  a  pious  Englishman  over  here, 
say  a  bishop  on  a  vacation,  wishes  to  relieve  his  feel 
ings  without  the  actual  use  of  profanity  he  exclaims 
"  Assouan !  "  If  he  falls  off  his  donkey,  "  Assouan !  " 
If  his  tea  is  served  to  him  at  less  than  212  degrees 
Fahrenheit,  "  Assouan !  " 

"  Assouan  "  means  the  superlative  of  all  dams,  the 
biggest  dam  in  the  world.  It  takes  the  place  of  a 

whole  row  of  these: — . 

155 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Mr.  Peasley  uses  the  word,  when  he  can  think  of  it. 
If  his  memory  fails  him,  he  falls  back  on  the  Amer 
ican  equivalent. 

Inasmuch   as   I   reside   in   Indiana,  where  it  is   a 
social  offence  to  crave  a  cigarette,  a  misdemeanor  to 


Assouan! 

keep  one  in  the  house,  and  a  high  crime  to  smoke  one, 
Cairo  during  the  first  day  gave  me  many  a  shock. 
Cairo  is  unquestionably  the  cigarette  headquarters 
of  the  universe.  If  the  modern  Egyptians  followed 

156 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

the  ancient  method  of  loading  the  tomb  with  sup 
plies  for  the  lately  departed  they  would  put  in  each 
sarcophagus  about  ten  thousand  cigarettes  and  a  few 
gallons  of  Turkish  coffee.  The  food  wouldn't  matter. 

In  Cairo,  men,  women,  and  children  smoke.  Only 
the  camels  and  donkeys  abstain. 

Cigarettes  are  sold  nearly  everywhere — not  only 
by  tobacconists,  but  also  by  milliners,  undertakers, 
real  estate  agents,  etc.  Those  who  do  not  sell  them 
give  them  away.  A  cigarette  across  the  counter  is 
the  usual  preliminary  to  driving  a  bargain. 

It  surprised  us  to  learn  that  although  the  Egyp 
tians  have  been  addicted  to  this  enfeebling  vice  ever 
since  they  first  had  a  chance  to  cultivate  it,  they  have 
managed  to  survive  and  flourish  as  a  distinct  breed 
of  humanity  for  some  seven  thousand  years,  as 
nearly  as  I  can  figure  it  off  hand.  By  eliminating  the 
cigarette  from  Indiana  the  Hoosiers  should  beat  this 
record.  No  doubt  they  will  retain  their  primitive 
vigour  for  a  longer  period,  say  nine  thousand  years. 
If  so,  the  anti-cigarette  law  will  be  vindicated. 

We  certainly  had  a  feeling  of  guilty  pleasure  when 
we  sat  in  front  of  Shepheard's  Hotel  and  smoked  the 
wicked  little  things,  and  knew  that  the  policeman 
standing  a  few  feet  away  did  not  dare  to  raise  his 
hand  against  us. 

157 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

A  very  clever  young  American  owns  a  shop  near 
the  hotel.  He  is  a  student  of  Egyptology  and  a 
dealer  in  genuine  antiquities,  including  mummies. 
While  I  was  nosing  through  his  collection  of  scarabs, 
idols,  coins,  and  other  time-worn  trinkets,  he  sug 
gested  that  I  purchase  a  mummy. 

"Can  I  get  one?"  I  asked,  in  surprise. 

"  I  can  get  you  a  gross,  if  you  want  them,"  he 
replied. 

"  What  would  a  man  do  with  a  gross  of 
mummies?  " 

"  You  can  give  them  away.  They  are  very  orna 
mental.  Formerly  my  only  customers  were  colleges 
and  museums.  Now  I  am  selling  to  people  who  put 
them  in  private  residences.  Nothing  sets  off  an  Ori 
ental  apartment  to  better  effect,  or  gives  it  more 
colour  and  atmosphere,  as  you  might  say,  than  a  dec 
orated  mummy  case." 

I  told  him  I  would  not  object  to  the  "  colour,"  but 
would  draw  the  line  at  "  atmosphere."  He  assured 
me  that  after  a  few  thousand  years  the  mortuary 
remains  become  as  dry  as  a  London  newspaper  and 
as  odourless  as  a  Congressional  investigation. 

I  followed  him  into  a  large  back  room  and  saw 
two  beautifully  preserved  specimens  in  their  rigid 
overcoats  being  packed  away  for  shipment  to  Amer- 

158 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

ica,  while  others  leaned  against  the  wall  in  careless 
attitudes. 

What  a  grisly  reflection !  Here  was  a  local  poten 
tate,  let  us  say  Ipekak  II.  of  Hewgag — ruler  of  a 
province,  boss  of  his  party,  proud  owner  of  broad 
fields  and  grazing  herds.  When  he  died,  1400  B.  c., 
and  was  escorted  to  his  rock  tomb  by  all  the  local 
secret  societies,  the  military  company,  and  a  band  of 
music,  his  friends  lowered  his  embalmed  remains  into 
a  deep  pit  and  then  put  in  a  rock  filling  and  cut 
hieroglyphics  all  over  the  place,  telling  of  his  wealth 
and  social  importance,  and  begging  all  future  gen 
erations  to  regard  the  premises  as  sacred. 

Some  two  thousand  years  later  along  comes  a 
vandal  in  a  cheap  store  suit  and  a  cork  helmet,  en 
gages  Ipekak's  own  descendants  to  pry  open  the  tomb 
and  heave  out  the  rock  at  fifteen  cents  per  day,  hauls 
the  mummy  into  the  daylight,  and  ships  it  by  lug 
gage  van  to  Cairo,  where  it  is  sold  to  a  St.  Paul  man 
for  $125! 

Until  I  talked  to  the  dealer  I  had  no  idea  that 
mummies  were  so  plentiful.  In  some  parts  of  Egypt 
people  go  out  and  dig  them  up  just  as  they  would 
dig  potatoes.  The  prices  vary  greatly,  somewhat 
depending  upon  the  state  of  preservation  of  the 
party  of  the  first  part  and  the  character  of  the  deco- 

159 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

rations  on  the  case,  but  more  particularly  on  account 
of  the  title  or  historical  importance  of  the  once 
lamented.  For  instance,  a  Rameses  or  Ptolemy  can 
not  be  touched  for  less  than  $1000.  A  prince,  a  trust 
magnate,  or  a  military  commander  brings  $150;  the 
Governor  of  a  city  or  the  president  of  a  theological 
seminary  anywhere  from  $60  to  $75.  Within  the 
last  three  years  perfect  specimens  of  humourist  have 
been  offered  for  as  low  as  $18,  and  the  dealer  showed 
me  one  for  $7.50 — probably  a  tourist. 

At  Naples,  proceeding  eastward,  one  enters  the 
land  of  Talk.  The  French  are  conversational  and 
animated,  but  Southern  Italy  begins  to  show  the  real 
Oriental  luxuriance  of  gab.  A  Neapolitan  trying  to 
sell  three  cents'  worth  of  fish  will  make  more  noise 
than  a  whole  Wanamaker  establishment.  The  most 
commonplace  and  everyday  form  of  dialogue  calls 
for  flashing  eyes,  swaying  body,  and  frantic  ges 
ticulations. 

In  front  of  a  cafe  in  Naples  Mr.  Peasley  became 
deeply  interested  in  a  conversation  between  two  well- 
dressed  men  at  a  table  near  ours.  At  first  we  thought 
they  were  going  to  "  clinch  "  and  fight  it  out,  but 
then  we  saw  that  there  was  no  real  anger  exhibited, 
but  that  apparently  one  was  describing  to  the  other 
some  very  thrilling  experience.  He  waved  his  arms, 

160 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

struck  at  imaginary  objects,  made  pinwheel  move 
ments  with  his  fingers,  and  carried  on  generally  in  a 
most  hysterical  manner.  Mr.  Peasley,  all  worked  up, 
beckoned  the  head  waiter,  who  had  been  talking  to 
us  in  English. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said  confidentially,  "  I  want  you 
to  listen  and  tell  me  what  those  fellows  are  talking 
about.  I  can't  catch  a  word  they  say,  but  as  near  as 
I  can  make  out  from  the  way  they  act  that  fellow 
with  the  goatee  is  describing  some  new  kind  of  tor 
pedo  boat.  It  goes  through  the  water  at  about  thirty 
miles  an  hour,  having  three  or  four  screw  propellers. 
When  it  comes  within  striking  distance  of  the  enemy 
— bang!  they  cut  her  loose  and  the  projectile  goes 
whizzing  to  the  mark,  and  when  it  meets  with  any 
resistance  there  is  a  big  explosion  and  everything 
within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  is  blown  to  flindereens. 
Now,  that's  the  plot,  as  near  as  I  can  follow  it  from 
watchin'  that  short  guy  make  motions.  You  listen 
to  them  and  tell  me  if  I  am  right." 

The  head  waiter  listened  and  then  translated  to  us 
as  follows : — "  He  is  saying  to  his  friend  that  he 
slept  very  well  last  evening  and  got  up  feeling  good, 
but  was  somewhat  annoyed  at  breakfast  time  because 
the  egg  was  not  cooked  to  suit  him." 

"  How  about  all  these  gymnastics  ?  "  asked  the  sur- 
161 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

prised  Mr.  Peasley.  "  Why  does  he  hop  up  and  down, 
side  step  and  feint  and  wiggle  his  fingers  and  all  that 
monkey  business?  " 

"Quite  so,"  replied  the  head  waiter.  "He  is  de 
scribing  the  egg." 

What  a  people — to  take  five  cents  worth  of  cheap 
information  and  garland  it  with  twenty  dollars' 
worth  of  Delsarte  and  rhetoric ! 

Talk  is  one  of  the  few  things  of  which  there  is  a 
superabundance  in  the  Levant.  In  nearly  all  partic 
ulars  the  Arab  is  economical  and  abstemious.  He 
eats  sparingly  and  cheaply,  wears  just  enough  cloth 
ing  to  keep  from  violating  the  municipal  ordinances, 
smokes  conservatively,  so  as  to  get  the  full  value  of 
his  tobacco,  and  lives  in  a  house  which  is  furnished 
with  three  or  four  primitive  utensils.  But  when  it 
comes  to  language,  he  is  the  most  reckless  spend 
thrift  in  the  world.  He  uses  up  large  bales  of  con 
versation. 

Suppose  that  three  porters  at  a  railway  station 
are  to  take  a  trunk  from  a  car  and  put  it  on  a  truck 
and  wheel  it  out  to  a  cab.  The  talk  made  necessary 
by  this  simple  operation  would  fill  several  pages  in 
the  Congressional  Record.  All  three  talk  incessantly, 
each  telling  the  others  what  to  do  and  finding  fault 
because  they  don't  do  it  his  way.  One  seems  to  be 

162 


168 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

superintendent,  the  second  is  foreman,  and  the  third 
is  boss. 

Endless  disputes  of  a  most  vivid  character  rage 
among  the  donkey  boys  and  peddlers  who  assemble 
near  the  hotels  and  lie  in  wait  for  victims.  "  What 
do  they  find  to  talk  about?  "  is  the  question  that 
comes  to  one  every  time  he  hears  the  babel  of  ex 
cited  voices.  And  while  we  are  smiling  at  their  child 
ish  tantrums  they  are  splitting  their  sides  over  new 
stories  relating  to  that  strange  being  from  the  an 
tipodes,  the  barbarian  with  the  mushroom  helmet 
who  exudes  money  at  every  pore,  who  keeps  him 
self  bundled  in  unnecessary  clothes  and  rides  out  to 
the  desert  every  day  to  stand  in  the  baking  sun  and 
solemnly  contemplate  a  broken  column  and  a  heap  of 
rubbish.  Truly  it  all  depends  on  the  point  of  view. 

We  held  back  the  Pyramids  and  the  Sphinx  so  as 
to  make  our  visit  to  them  the  cap  sheaf  of  the 
stay  in  Cairo.  As  for  sightseeing,  most  of  the  time 
we  just  rambled  up  one  street  and  down  another, 
looking  in  shop  windows,  watching  the  workmen  kill 
time  with  their  prehistoric  implements,  smelling  the 
bazaars,  dodging  dog  carts,  donkeys  and  camels,  and 
having  a  fine  time  generally. 

Aimless  excursions  are  the  best,  after  all.  It  is 
more  fun  to  drift  around  a  new  town  and  rub  up 

164 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

against  the  people  than  to  deliver  yourself,  body  and 
soul,  over  to  a  guide.  In  Egypt  the  guide  is  called 
a  dragoman.  He  puts  on  airs  and  has  an  inside 
pocket  bulging  with  testimonials  from  people  who 
were  so  glad  to  get  out  of  his  clutches  that  they 
willingly  perjured  themselves  by  giving  him  half 
hearted  certificates  of  good  character.  While  you 
are  in  the  hands  of  the  dragoman  you  feel  like  a 
dumb,  driven  cow.  You  follow  the  fluttering  night 
shirt  and  the  tall  red  fez  of  this  arch  villain  for 
hours  at  a  time,  not  knowing  where  you  are  going, 
or  why.  He  takes  absolute  charge  of  you,  either  by 
making  specious  representations  or  boldly  assuming 
authority,  and  when  you  start  out  to  visit  the  famous 
mosque  of  old  Midullah  Oblongahta  or  some  other 
defunct  celebrity  you  finish  up  in  a  junk  shop  for 
the  sale  of  antiques,  all  of  which  are  personally 
guaranteed  by  the  dragoman,  because  he  is  a  silent 
partner  in  the  business. 

In  many  countries,  especially  at  times  when  the 
traveller  must  condense  his  itinerary,  the  guide  is  a 
necessary  evil,  and  in  Egypt  he  is  supposed  to  be 
a  sort  of  ornamental  body  guard.  We  found  that 
we  could  wander  about  without  being  haltered  and 
led,  so  we  spent  pleasant  hours  in  the  Mouski,  which 
is  the  native  shopping  street,  and  also  we  went  to  the 

165 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

race  meeting  and  saw  native  horses  and  ponies, 
carrying  140  to  160  pounds  each,  saunter  around  a. 
half-mile  track  while  a  large  number  of  English  in 
Mardi  Gras  costumes  drank  gallons  of  tea  and  sim 
ulated  a  polite  interest. 

One  afternoon  we  wandered  into  a  market  and  a 
man  tried  to  sell  me  a  camel.  Wherever  we  go,  if  a 
man  has  something  he  doesn't  want,  he  tries  to  sell 
it  to  me,  and  sometimes  he  does  it.  But  I  refused  to 
take  the  camel.  I  did  not  see  how  I  could  fold  it  up 
•  and  secrete  it  so  as  to  get  it  through  the  custom 
house. 

Camels  in  the  Cairo  market  are  now  steady,  not 
literally  speaking,  but  as  regards  their  value.  A 
good  terra  cotta  camel,  55  to  60  hands  high  and 
broken  to  single-foot,  will  fetch  as  high  as  $150. 
The  older  ones — spavined,  hairless,  or  pigeontoed — 
can  be  bought  for  as  low  as  $50  each.  The  common 
or  garden  camel,  trained  to  collapse  like  a  pocket 
camera  and  carry  from  three  to  eight  tons  of  cargo,, 
can  usually  be  bought  at  from  $100  to  $125. 

Cairo,  as  a  whole,  was  a  big  surprise  to  us.  We 
knew  that  it  was  going  to  be  cosmopolitan,  but  we 
were  not  prepared  to  find  it  so  metropolitan.  We 
had  pictured  it  as  one  or  two  semi-European  streets 
hedged  in  by  a  vast  area  of  native  quarter.  But, 

166 


ROUND    ABOUT    CAIRO 

unless  you  seek  out  the  old  parts  of  the  town  or  the 
bazaars,  each  showing  a  distinct  type  of  the  Oriental 
shark,  Cairo  is  outwardly  quite  modern,  very  attrac 
tive,  and  decidedly  gay — that  is,  not  real  wicked 
gayety  of  the  Parisian  brand,  but  modified,  winter- 
resort  gayety,  the  kind  that  is  induced  by  the  pres 
ence  of  money-spending  tourists.  There  is  no  hurrah 
night  life,  and  gambling,  which  flourished  here  for 
many  seasons  under  the  skilful  direction  of  our 
countryman,  Mr.  Pat  Sheedy,  has  yielded  to  British 
reformatory  influence. 

The  modern  streets  in  Cairo,  with  their  attractive 
hotels,  residences,  and  shops,  suggest  a  blending  of 
Paris  and  the  Riviera — consistent  architecture,  trees, 
palms,  gardens.  The  streets  are  of  boulevard  width, 
and  the  houses  of  cheerful  colouring,  many  of  them 
bearing  coloured  frescoes  in  delicate  shades.  We  who 
live  in  a  country  of  rainfall  and  smoke  and  changing 
temperatures  are  impelled  to  stop  and  gaze  in  wonder 
at  a  mansion  of  snowy  white  with  a  pattern  of  pale 
blossoms  drooping  down  the  front  of  it.  That  style 
of  decoration  would  last  about  twenty  minutes  in 
Chicago. 


167 


CHAPTER    XIII 

ALL  ABOUT  OUR  VISIT  TO  THE  PYRAMID 
OF    CHEOPS 

L/URING  the  first  three  days  in  Cairo  a  brilliant 
and  original  plan  of  action  had  been  outlining  itself 
in  my  mind.  At  last  I  could  not  keep  it  to  myself  any 
longer,  so  I  told  Mr.  Peasley. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  am  going  to  do  ?  "  I  asked. 

Mr.  Peasley  did  not. 

"  I  am  going  to  write  up  the  Pyramids.  I  am  going 
to  tell  who  built  them  and  how  long  it  took  and  how 
many  blocks  of  stone  they  contain.  I  shall  have  my 
self  photographed  sitting  on  a  camel  and  holding 
an  American  flag.  Also,  I  shall  describe  in  detail  the 
emotions  that  surge  within  me  as  I  stand  in  the 
shadow  of  the  Sphinx  and  gaze  up  at  that  vast  and 
imperturbable  expanse  of  face." 

"  It's  a  great  scheme,"  said  Mr.  Peasley,  "  but 
you've  been  scooped.  They've  been  written  up 
already." 

"  Are  you  sure?  " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  the  whole  outfit  of  Pyramids  has  been 
168 


A   VISIT   TO    THE    PYRAMID    OF    CHEOPS 

described  in  a  special  article  by  a  man  named  Herod 
otus." 

"  How  long  since?  " 

"  About  470  B.  c." 

He  produced  a  guide  book  and  proved  that  he  was 
right.  All  the  things  that  I  had  been  getting  ready 


"  Scooped!  " 

to  say  about  the  Pyramids  had  been  said  by  Herod 
otus.  He  had   got   there   ahead   of   me — just   2376 

169 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

years  ahead  of  me.  In  daily  newspaper  competition, 
when  some  man  gets  his  news  twenty-four  hours 
ahead  of  another  one  he  is  proud  of  his  "  beat "  and 
is  the  hero  of  the  office  for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes. 
But  think  of  trailing  along  twenty-four  centuries 
behind  a  Greek  space  writer !  It  took  all  the  starch 
out  of  me. 

Mr.  Peasley  suggested  that  inasmuch  as  consid 
erable  time  had  elapsed  since  the  appearance  of  the 
first  write-up,  possibly  the  average  reader  would  have 
only  a  dim  recollection  of  it  and  accept  my  account 
as  brand  new  stuff.  But  I  knew  better.  I  knew  that 
some  old  subscriber,  with  a  complete  file  put  away  in 
the  bureau,  would  rise  up  and  draw  the  deadly  par 
allel  on  me.  All  I  can  safely  do  in  regard  to  the 
Pyramids  is  touch  up  a  few  points  overlooked  by 
my  predecessor. 

Herodotus,  by  the  way,  had  quite  a  time  in  Egypt. 
At  that  time  Shepheard's  Hotel  was  not  in  opera 
tion,  although  it  must  have  been  under  way,  and  no 
round  trip  tickets  were  being  issued  by  Cook,  so 
Herodotus  had  to  do  his  own  booking  and  put  up  at 
a  boarding  house.  In  Memphis,  which  is  now  a  frag 
mentary  suburb  of  Cairo,  Herodotus  engaged  a 
guide.  He  does  not  tell  us  what  he  paid,  but  he  does 
give  us  a  line  on  the  character  of  the  dragoman,  who 

170 


A   VISIT   TO    THE    PYRAMID    OF    CHEOPS 

was  full  of  superfluous  and  undesirable  information, 
but  who  fell  down  when  asked  to  divulge  facts  of  real 
importance.  This  proves  that  the  breed  has  not 
changed  since  500  B.  c. 

The  guide  took  Herodotus  out  to  the  Pyramids 
and  filled  him  up.  It  is  now  believed  that  most  of 
what  Herodotus  sent  back  was  merely  hearsay,  but  it 
made  good  reading.  The  Pyramids  had  been  stand 
ing  some  two  thousand  years,  and  any  information 
in  regard  to  their  origin  could  hardly  come  under 
the  head  of  personal  recollections.  Whatever  Herod 
otus  had  to  say  about  the  Pyramids  is  now  accepted 
as  gospel,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  never  saw 
them  until  twenty  centuries  after  the  last  block  of 
stone  had  been  put  in  place  and  Cheops  had  taken 
possession  of  the  tomb  chambers.  Rather  late  for 
a  grand  opening. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  Great  Pyramid  he  stepped 
it  off  and  put  down  the  dimensions,  and  then  he  re 
marked  to  some  of  the  natives  standing  around  that 
it  must  have  been  quite  a  job  to  build  a  tomb  of  that 
size.  They  said  yes ;  it  had  been  a  big  contract,  and 
as  the  work  had  been  completed  only  two  thousand 
years  they  were  enabled  to  go  into  details.  They 
gave  Herodotus  a  fine  lay-out  of  round  figures.  They 
said  that  one  hundred  thousand  men  had  worked  on 

171 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

the  job  and  that  the  time  required  was  thirty  years — - 
ten  years  to  build  the  road  and  the  huge  incline  for 
bringing  the  blocks  of  stone  into  place,  and  then 
twenty  years  to  quarry  the  stone  and  transport  it 
across  the  Nile  and  the  valley.  The  stone  cutters 
worked  all  the  year,  and  during  the  three  months' 
inundation,  when  farming  was  at  a  standstill,  the 
entire  rural  population  turned  out,  just  as  they 
would  at  a  husking  bee  or  a  barn  raising,  and  helped 
Cheops  with  his  tomb.  They  did  this  year  after  year 
for  thirty  years,  until  they  had  piled  up  2,600,000 
blocks  of  stone,  each  containing  forty  cubic  feet. 

Herodotus  discovered  some  large  hieroglyphics  on 
the  face  of  the  Pyramid  and  asked  the  guide  for  a 
translation.  It  is  now  supposed  that  the  guide  could 
not  read.  Anyone  with  education  or  social  standing 
wouldn't  have  been  a  guide,  even  in  that  remote 
period.  But  this  guide  wanted  to  appear  to  be  earn 
ing  his  salary  and  be  justified  in  demanding  a  tip, 
so  he  said  that  the  inscription  told  how  much  garlic 
and  onions  the  labourers  had  consumed  while  at  work 
on  the  job,  and  just  how  much  these  had  cost.  Herod 
otus  put  it  all  down  in  his  notebook  without  batting 
an  eye. 

"  How  much  did  they  spend  for  onions  and  gar 
lic?  "  he  asked,  poising  his  pencil. 

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A  VISIT   TO   THE    PYRAMID   OF   CHEOPS 


Herodotus  put  it  all  down — without  batting  an  eye 
173 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

The  guide  waited  for  a  moment,  so  that  his  imagi 
nation  could  get  a  running  start,  and  then  he  replied, 
"  They  cost  1600  talents  of  silver." 

Now,  that  sum  in  talents  is  equivalent,  under  mod 
ern  computation,  to  350,000  English  pounds,  or 
$1,750,000.  Think  of  a  million  dollars'  worth  of  gar 
lic!  Try  to  imagine  the  bouquet  that  permeated  the 
desert  when  one  hundred  thousand  men  who  had  been 
eating  garlic  began  to  call  for  more  bricks  and 
mortar ! 

Herodotus  told  his  story  and  got  away  with  it. 
By  the  time  the  next  letter-writing  traveller  came 
along,  a  good  many  centuries  later,  the  outer  casing 
of  the  Pyramid  had  been  stripped  off  and  the  inscrip 
tion  had  disappeared.  His  story  has  stood  because 
he  was  here  ahead  of  the  rest  of  us  and  saw  the  marks 
with  his  own  eyes  and  had  them  translated  by  a  ten- 
cent  guide.  But  can  you  believe  that  a  great  monarch 
would  devote  thirty  years  and  sacrifice  thousands  of 
lives  and  work  the  whole  male  population  of  his  king 
dom  to  skin  and  bones  putting  up  a  colossal  sepul 
chre  and  then  set  aside  the  most  valuable  space  on 
this  glorious  monument  for  telling  how  much  onions 
and  garlic  had  been  fed  to  the  help? 

Marco  Polo,  Mark  Twain,  and  all  the  other  great 
travellers  of  history  love  to  tell  tall  ones  once  in  a 

174 


A   VISIT   TO   THE    PYRAMID    OF    CHEOPS 
while,  but  the  garlic  story  by  Herodotus  will  doubt 
less  be  regarded  as  a  record  performance  for  a  long 
time  to  come. 

Cheops  was  possibly  the  most  successful  con 
tractor  in  history.  It  is  estimated  that  he  really  did 
work  one  hundred  thousand  men  in  the  building 
of  the  great  Pyramid,  as  related  by  Herodotus,  and 
that  he  must  have  devoted  at  least  thirty  years  to 
the  big  undertaking.  During  all  that  time  he  never 
had  a  strike  or  even  a  clash  with  the  walking  dele 
gate.  The  eight  hour  day  was  unknown,  and  no  one 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing  as  an  arbitration  committee. 
All  he  had  to  do  was  to  give  orders  and  the  entire 
population  obeyed  him.  Everybody  worked  but 
Cheops.  He  didn't  even  pay  salaries.  It  is  true  that 
in  a  spirit  of  generosity  he  set  out  a  free  lunch  for 
the  labourers — about  $2,000,000  worth  of  garlic  and 
onions.  If  he  had  tried  to  feed  them  on  quail  prob 
ably  he  would  have  gone  broke. 

Nowadays  visitors  go  out  to  the  Pyramids  by 
tramcar.  For  some  reason  we  had  the  notion,  doubt 
less  shared  by  many  who  have  not  been  there,  that  to 
get  to  the  Pyramids  one  simply  rides  through  Cairo 
and  out  onto  the  flat  desert.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
Great  Pyramid  at  Ghizeh,  its  two  smaller  companions 
and  the  Sphinx  are  on  a  rocky  plateau  five  miles  to 

175 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

the  west  of  the  city.  There  is  a  bee-line  road  across 
the  lowlands.  It  is  a  wide  and  graded  thoroughfare, 
set  with  acacia  trees,  and  as  you  ride  out  by  trolley 
or  carriage  you  look  up  at  the  Pyramids,  and  when 
you  are  still  three  miles  away  they  seem  to  be  at  least 
a  half-mile  distant.  At  the  end  of  the  avenue  and  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill  there  is  a  hotel,  and  from 
this  point  one  may  climb  or  else  charter  a  dumb 
animal. 

Not  knowing  the  ropes,  we  engaged  a  carriage  at 
100  piastres  to  take  us  from  the  city  out  to  the 
plateau.  This  is  not  as  much  as  it  sounds,  but  it  is 
about  twice  the  usual  rate.  After  we  struck  the  long 
road  leading  across  the  valley  and  saw  the  trolley 
cars  gliding  by  and  leaving  us  far  behind,  we  de 
cided  to  send  the  carriage  back  to  the  city  and  take 
to  the  trolley,  where  we  would  feel  at  home.  The 
driver  informed  us  that  he  could  not  return  to  the 
city,  as  the  big  bridge  had  been  opened  to  permit  the 
passing  of  boats,  and  that  it  would  be  three  hours 
before  he  could  drive  back  to  town.  It  seems  that  he 
was  right.  The  big  bridge  swings  open  but  once  a 
day,  and  then  it  stays  open  for  a  few  hours,  and  the 
man  who  finds  himself  "  bridged  "  must  either  swim 
or  engage  a  boat. 

It  is  a  five  minutes'   climb  from  the  end  of  the 
176 


A   VISIT   TO    THE    PYRAMID   OF    CHEOPS 

drive  up  to  the  rocky  plateau  on  which  the  pyramids 
are  perched,  and  the  ordinary  tourist  goes  afoot. 
But  we  were  pining  for  Oriental  extravagance  and 
new  sensations,  so  we  engaged  camels.  The  camel 
allotted  to  me  was  destitute  of  hair,  and  when  first 
discovered  was  in  a  comatose  condition.  His  or  her 
name  was  Zenobia,  and  the  brunette  in  charge  said 
that  its  age  was  either  six  or  sixty.  It  sounded  more 
like  "  six,"  but  the  general  appearance  of  the  animal 
seemed  to  back  up  the  "  sixty  "  theory.  As  we  ap 
proached,  Zenobia  opened  one  eye  and  took  a  hard 
look  at  the  party,  and  then  made  a  low  wailing  sound 
which  doubtless  meant  "  More  trouble  for  me."  The 
venerable  animal  creaked  at  every  joint  as  it  slowly 
rose  into  the  air  on  the  instalment  plan,  a  foot  or 
two  at  a  time. 

We  had  come  thousands  of  miles  to  see  the  Pyra 
mids,  and  for  the  next  ten  minutes  we  were  so  busy 
hanging  on  to  those  undulating  ships  of  the  desert 
that  we  overlooked  even  the  big  Pyramid,  which  was 
spread  out  before  us  750  feet  wide  and  450  feet 
high.  Riding  a  camel  is  like  sitting  on  a  high  trestle 
that  is  giving  way  at  the  joints  and  is  about  to  col 
lapse.  The  distance  to  the  ground  is  probably  ten 
feet,  but  you  seem  to  be  fifty  feet  in  the  air.  As  soon 
as  we  could  escape  from  the  camels  we  walked  around 

177 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

and  gazed  in  solemn  silence  at  the  Sphinx  and  the 
three  Pyramids  and  doubtless  thought  all  of  the 
things  that  were  appropriate  to  the  time  and  place. 

The  great  Pyramid  of  Cheops  has  been  advertised 
so  extensively  that  doubtless  many  people  will  be  sur 
prised  to  learn  that  there  is  a  whole  flock  of  Pyra 
mids  on  this  plateau  along  the  edge  of  the  Libyan 
desert.  There  are  Pyramids  to  the  north  and  Pyra 
mids  to  the  south,  five  groups  in  all,  sixty  of  them, 
and  they  vary  in  size  from  a  stingy  little  mound 
looking  like  an  extinct  lime  kiln  up  to  the  behemoth 
specimen  which  is  photographed  by  every  Cook 
tourist. 

Why  do  these  Pyramids  vary  so  greatly  in  size? 
Each  was  built  by  some  royal  personage  as  an  en 
during  monument  to  his  administration  and  the  last 
resting  place  of  his  remains.  The  most  eminent  stu 
dents  of  Egyptology  now  agree  that  the  size  of  each 
of  these  Pyramids  is  a  fair  measure  of  the  length  of 
each  king's  reign.  The  reason  that  Cheops  has  the 
biggest  Pyramid  is  that  he  held  office  longer  than  the 
others.  When  a  king  mounted  the  throne,  if  he  was 
feeling  rugged  and  was  what  an  insurance  company 
would  call  a  "  preferred  risk "  he  would  block  out 
the  foundation  of  a  Pyramid  tomb  that  would  re 
quire,  say,  ten  years  for  the  building.  If,  at  the  end 

178 


A   VISIT    TO   THE    PYRAMID   OF    CHEOPS 

of  ten  years,  he  was  still  feeling  in  good  physical 
condition  and  confident  of  lasting  a  while  longer  he 
would  widen  the  foundations  and  put  on  additional 
layers  up  to  the  summit.  Labor  was  free  and  materi 
als  were  cheap,  and  he  kept  everybody  working  on 
his  tomb  as  long  as  he  lived.  Finally,  when  the  court 
physicians  began  to  warn  him  that  his  time  was  lim 
ited,  he  would  begin  putting  on  the  outer  coating  of 
dressed  stone  and  arrange  for  the  inscriptions.  The 
ruler  who  lasted  only  three  or  four  years  was  buried 
in  a  squatty  little  Pyramid,  which  soon  became  hid 
den  under  the  drifting  sands  of  the  desert.  Cheops 
kept  piling  up  the  huge  blocks  for  thirty  years,  and 
that  is  why  his  Pyramid  holds  the  record.  If  Me- 
thusaleh  had  been  a  Pyramid  builder  he  would  have 
been  compelled  to  put  up  a  tomb  probably  a  mile  and 
a  half  high  and  about  eleven  miles  around  the  base. 
In  a  revolutionary  South  American  republic  the  ruler 
would  probably  get  no  further  than  laying  the  cor 
ner  stone. 

We  visited  the  pyramids.  Also,  we  looked  at  the 
golf  links,  staked  out  across  the  barren  sands — not  to 
be  played  on,  but  merely  to  be  featured  in  the  hotel 
advertisement.  Think  of  a  golf  course  which  is  one 
huge  hazard !  Drive  the  ball  in  any  direction  and  you 
can't  play  out  of  the  sand!  Forty  centuries  gazing 

179 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

down    on    a    bow-legged    tourist    in    fuzzy    Scotch 
stockings ! 

Most  of  the  pleasure  seekers  that  we  encountered 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Pyramids  seemed  to  be 
quite  elderly — some  of  the  more  sprightly  as  young 
as  sixty,  and  from  that  going  up  to  where  it  would 
be  better  to  stop  guessing.  Mr.  Peasley  gave  an  ex 
planation  of  their  presence.  He  said  that  the  dry 
climate  of  Egypt  would  preserve  antiquities  for  an 
indefinite  period. 

Here  they  were,  these  male  and  female  octogena 
rians,  not  propped  up  in  arm  chairs  dividing  the 
family  silverware  and  arranging  bequests  to  hospi 
tals  and  libraries,  but  out  on  the  blinding  desert, 
thousands  of  miles  from  home,  falling  off  donkeys, 
climbing  up  on  camels,  devouring  guide  books,  rum 
maging  around  for  time  tables,  kicking  on  the 
charges,  and  leading  on  the  whole  a  life  of  purple 
strenuosity.  We  .heard  of  two  English  women,  sis 
ters,  both  over  seventy,  who  had  just  returned  from 
Khartoum,  from  which  point  they  had  gone  on  a 
hunting  expedition  still  further  into  the  interior. 
They  had  to  wear  mosquito  bags  and  semi-male  at 
tire,  and  were  out  in  the  wild  country  for  days  at 
a  time,  chasing  gazelles,  hyenas,  and  other  indig 
enous  fauna. 

180 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  PYRAMID  OF  CHEOPS 
Just  as  I  am  about  to  conclude  this  treatise  it 
occurs  to  me  that,  although  I  have  given  a  wealth 
of  useful  information  regarding  the  Pyramids,  I 
have  rather  overlooked  our  old  friend  the  Sphinx. 
I  can  only  say  in  passing  that  it  looks  exactly  like 
the  printed  advertisements.  There  is  no  deception 
about  it.  It  is  in  a  bad  state  of  repair,  but  this  is 
not  surprising  when  we  consider  its  age.  Herodotus 
does  not  mention  the  Sphinx.  It  was  right  there  at 
the  time.  In  fact,  it  had  been  there  fourteen  hundred 
years  when  he  first  arrived.  It  seems  strange  that  an 
observing  traveller  should  have  overlooked  a  monu 
ment  sixty-six  feet  high,  with  a  face  nearly  fourteen 
feet  wide,  a  nose  five  feet  and  seven  inches  long,  and 
wearing  a  smile  that  measures  over  seven  feet ! 
Herodotus  either  walked  by  without  seeing  it  or  else 
he  did  not  think  it  worthy  of  mention.  The  only 
plausible  explanation  is  that  he  was  too  busy  figuring 
up  the  garlic  statistics. 


181 


ON    THE    NILE 


CHAPTER    XIV 

DASHING  UP  THE  NILE  IN  COMPANY  WITH 
MR.    PEASLEY    AND    OTHERS 

THE  dream  of  many  years  has  come  true.  We  are 
moving  (southward)  up  the  Nile.  Like  busy  sand  flies 
we  are  flitting,  almost  daily,  across  white  patches  of 
desert  to  burrow  into  second-hand  tombs  and  crick 
our  necks  looking  up  at  mutilated  temples. 

Ten  years  ago  not  one  of  us  had  ever  heard  of 
Koti  or  Khnemhotep.  Now  we  refer  to  them  in  the 
most  casual  way,  as  if  we  had  roomed  with  them  for 
a  while.  It  is  certainly  a  gay  life  we  are  leading  over 
the  cemetery  circuit.  Just  think  what  rollicking  fun 
it  must  be  to  revel  day  after  day  in  sarcophagi  and 
sepulchres,  stumbling  through  subterranean  pas 
sages  and  kicking  up  the  dust  of  departed  kings, 
peering  down  into  mummy  pits,  also  trying  to  stretch 
the  imagination  like  a  rubber  band  so  that  we  may 
get  the  full  significance  of  what  is  meant  by  1500 
B.  c.  People  come  to  Egypt  to  cure  nervous  depres 
sion  and  then  spend  nine-tenths  of  their  time  hang 
ing  around  tombs.  Why  come  all  the  way  to  Egypt? 

185 


186 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

Why  not  go  out  to  Woodlawn  and  run  foot  races 
from  one  family  vault  to  another? 

Mr.  Peasley  has  no  use  for  the  tombs  we  have  seen 
up  to  date.  At  Beni-Hassan  we  rode  on  donkeys  and 
climbed  hills  for  half  an  hour  to  inspect  several  large 
cubes  of  dim  atmosphere  surrounded  by  limestone. 
At  Assiut  we  put  in  the  best  part  of  the  afternoon 
toiling  up  to  another  gloomy  cavern.  While  we  stood 
in  the  main  chamber  of  the  tomb  of  Hapzefai  (who 
ever  he  was),  trying  to  pump  up  some  enthusiasm, 
Mr.  Peasley  mopped  his  brow  and  declared  himself. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  can  do,"  he  said.  "  I  can 
take  a  hundred  pounds  of  dynamite  and  a  gang  of 
dagoes  and  go  anywhere  along  the  Hudson  and  blow 
out  a  tomb  in  a  week's  time  that  will  beat  anything 
we've  seen  in  Egypt.  Then  I'll  hire  a  boy  with  a 
markin'  brush  to  draw  some  one-legged  men  and 
some  tall  women  with  their  heads  turned  the  wrong 
way,  and  I'll  charge  six  dollars  to  go  in,  and  make 
my  fortune." 

The  significance  of  the  "  six  dollars  "  is  that  every 
traveller  who  wishes  to  visit  the  antiquities  must 
pay  a  government  tax  of  120  piastres.  He  receives 
a  "  monument  ticket,"  which  he  must  show  to  the 
guard  before  entering  any  tomb  or  temple.  I  regret 
to  say  that  the  tickets  are  often  passed  along  by  de- 

187 


188 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

parting  travellers  to  those  newly  arrived,  and  as  the 
guards  do  not  read  English,  anything  that  looks  like 
a  monument  ticket  will  satisfy  the  man  at  the  door. 
At  Beni-Hassan  Mr.  Peasley  discovered,  when  he 
arrived  at  the  tombs,  that  he  had  left  his  ticket  at 
the  boat.  Fortunately,  a  fellow  traveller  had  an 
extra  ticket  with  him  and  Mr.  Peasley  had  no  dif 
ficulty  in  gaining  admission  to  all  the  tombs  under 
the  name  of  "  Miss  Ella  McPherson." 

Before  plunging  into  the  details  of  our  voyage,  it 
is  only  fair  that  the  indulgent  reader  should  know 
how  and  why  we  came  boating  up  the  Nile.  And 
first  of  all  he  should  know  something  about  this 
wonderful  river.  The  Nile  has  been  described  one 
million  times,  at  a  rough  guess,  and  yet  at  the  risk 
of  dealing  out  superfluous  information  I  am  going 
to  insert  some  geography. 

Total  length,  nearly  four  thousand  miles.  For 
thousands  and  thousands  of  years  it  has  supported  a 
swarming  population  along  its  banks,  and  yet  until 
fifty  years  ago  no  one  knew  from  whence  it  came. 
The  inhabitants  suspected  that  it  came  from  some 
where,  but  they  were  too  busy  paying  taxes  and 
building  pyramids  to  worry  about  scientific  discov 
eries.  For  1200  miles  up  stream  from  the  delta  out 
let  the  Nile  does  not  receive  any  tributary.  It  winds 

189 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

over  a  limestone  base  and  through  a  rainless  desert 
between  high  and  barren  tablelands.  Occasionally, 
where  there  is  a  granite  formation,  the  stream  is 
narrowed  and  forces  its  way  through  rushing  rapids, 
and  these  are  known  as  the  "  cataracts."  The  first 
of  these  is  at  Assouan,  about  six  hundred  miles  up 
stream. 

Assouan  has  for  many  centuries  marked  the  bor 
der  line  of  Egypt  proper.  To  the  south  is  the  land 
of  the  warlike  blacks,  who  have  been  trouble-makers 
from  the  beginning  of  time.  This  First  Cataract  is 
the  usual  terminus  of  tourist  travel,  but  those  who 
wish  to  see  Nubia  and  the  Soudan  board  a  small 
steamer,  pass  through  the  locks  of  the  new  dam,  and 
go  by  river  210  miles  to  Wadi  Haifa,  thence  by  rail 
576  miles  to  Khartoum.  It  is  here,  about  thirteen 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  up  stream,  that  the  White 
and  Blue  Niles  converge  and  bring  down  from  the 
rainy  equatorial  regions  the  floods  of  muddy  water 
which  are  the  annual  salvation  of  Egypt. 

Ten  years  ago  Khartoum  seemed  as  inaccessible 
as  the  North  Pole.  It  was  headquarters  for  the  most 
desperate  swarm  of  frenzied  fanatics  that  ever  swept 
a  region  with  fire  and  sword.  They  had  wiped  out 
British  armies  and  put  Gordon's  head  on  a  pole. 
They  were  in  a  drunken  ecstasy  of  Mohammedan 

190 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

zeal,  eager  to  fight  and  ready  to  die,  and  they  got 
all  that  they  were  looking  for. 

It  is  less  than  eight  years  since  Kitchener  went 
down  to  call  on  them.  Of  all  the  cold-blooded  and 
frozen-featured  military  tacticians  of  the  inexorable 
school,  Kitchener  stands  pre-eminent.  General  Grant 
in  his  grimmest  moment  was  absolutely  emotional 
and  acrobatic  as  compared  with  Kitchener.  He  car 
ried  ice  water  in  his  veins,  and  his  mental  machinery 
ticked  with  Birmingham  regularity.  He  did  not  get 
excited  and  dash  into  the  open  trap,  as  all  the  others 
had  done.  He  moved  slowly  but  relentlessly  into  the 
dread  country  and  built  a  railroad  as  he  went  along. 
He  carried  everything  that  a  British  army  needs — • 
marmalade,  polo  ponies,  Belfast  ginger  ale,  tinned 
meats,  pipe  clay,  etc. 

"  We  cannot  stampede  them,  because  stampeding 
is  their  specialty,"  said  Kitchener,  "  but  I  will  lick 
them  by  algebra." 

He  did  not  say  this,  because  he  never  said  any 
thing,  but  this  is  what  he  indicated  by  his  calm  prep 
arations.  He  knew  that  the  dervishes  were  frothing 
at  the  mouth  and  praying  Allah  to  give  them  another 
chance  to  swim  in  gore,  so  he  simply  edged  up  to 
within  striking  distance  of  them  and  picked  out  his 
ground  and  waited.  A  kinetoscope  hero  would  have 

191 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

galloped  up  and  down  the  line  shouting,  "  Up,  men, 
and  at  them !  "  But  Kitchener  was  not  a  hero.  He 
was  business  manager  of  an  abattoir.  His  object 
was  not  to  win  a  great  battle,  but  to  exterminate  a 
species.  And  he  probably  did  one  of  the  neatest  jobs 
of  house  cleaning  on  record. 

The  bloodthirsty  mob,  led  by  the  Khalifa,  as 
principal  maniac,  charged  across  an  open  plain. 
Each  determined  dervish  carried  in  his  right  hand  a 
six  foot  spear,  with  which  he  hoped  to  do  consider 
able  damage.  When  he  still  lacked  about  a  mile  of 
being  within  poking  distance  of  the  hated  infidel,  the 
machine  guns  opened  up  and  began  to  sweep  the  plain 
back  and  forth  in  long  regular  swaths,  just  as  the 
sickle  sweeps  through  the  yellow  grain.  It  was  quite 
a  handicap  for  the  invincible  children  of  Allah.  They 
could  not  use  their  six  foot  spears  on  anyone  a  mile 
away,  and  before  they  could  recover  from  the  cha 
grin  occasioned  by  this  unexpected  move  on  the  part 
of  the  enemy,  about  eleven  thousand  of  them  had 
winged  their  way  to  eternal  happiness  and  the  others 
were  radiating  in  all  directions,  pursued  by  those 
who  wished  to  civilise  them  and  bring  them  under 
British  control.  Those  of  the  dervishes  who  escaped 
are  supposed  to  be  still  running.  At  least  they  never 
came  back  to  start  another  Messiah  movement. 

192 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

Ten  years  ago  the  Soudan  was  sealed  to  the  whole 
world  and  death  waited  for  the  unbeliever  who 
crossed  the  border.  To-day  the  table  d-hote  roams 
unafraid,  and  the  illustrated  post  card  blooms  even 
as  the  rose. 

The  Nile  of  which  you  have  read  and  along  which 
are  scattered  the  simon  pure  monuments  of  antiquity 
is  the  six  hundred  miles  of  winding  river  between 
Assouan,  or  First  Cataract,  and  the  sea.  For  the 
entire  distance,  until  it  spreads  into  a  fan-shaped 
delta  and  filters  into  the  Mediterranean,  the  stream 
is  walled  in  by  flat-topped  hills  of  barren  aspect. 
They  are  capped  with  limestone  and  carpeted  about 
with  shifting  sands,  and  they  look  for  all  the  world 
like  the  mesas  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  for  they 
lie  baking  in  the  same  kind  of  clarified  sunshine. 
This  meandering  hollow  between  the  rugged  hill 
ranges  is  the  Valley  of  the  Nile.  Here  and  there  the 
hills  close  in  until  the  river  banks  are  high  and 
chalky  cliffs.  At  one  point  the  valley  spreads  to  a 
width  of  thirty-three  miles. 

East  and  west  of  the  hills  are  vast  areas  of  desert 
without  even  a  spear  of  vegetation  except  where 
there  is  a  miraculous  rise  of  water  to  the  surface. 
These  spots  are  grateful  landmarks  of  clustered  palms 
and  are  known  as  oases. 

193 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

The  Valley  of  the  Nile  would  be  just  as  bare  and 
monotonous  as  an  asphalt  pavement  were  it  not  for 
the  fact  that  once  a  year  the  Nile  overflows.  It  has 
been  overflowing1  every  year  for  thousands  of  years, 
bringing  down  from  the  mountains  of  Abyssinia 
and  the  far-away  regions  of  tropical  rains  a  spread 
ing  volume  of  muddy  water.  Every  winter,  when  the 
dwindling  stream  gets  back  into  the  customary  bed, 
it  has  left  a  layer  of  black  sediment  over  the  inun 
dated  district.  So  many  layers  of  sediment  have  been 
deposited  that  now  the  rich  black  soil  is  thirty  to 
fifty  feet  deep  along  the  river,  thinning  out  as  it 
meets  the  slope  of  the  desert.  Unlike  our  prairie  soil 
of  the  Middle  West,  the  Nile  farms  are  not  under 
laid  with  clay.  The  Nile  soil  is  black  all  the  way  down 
to  limestone — a  floury  mineral  powder  of  even  com 
position.  The  only  parts  of  Egypt  which  can  be  cul 
tivated  are  those  touched  by  the  annual  overflow. 
Egypt  is  really  a  ribbon  of  alluvial  soil  following  the 
stream  on  either  side.  The  tourist  standing  on  the 
top  deck  of  a  Nile  steamer  ,can  see  both  east  and  west 
the  raw  and  broken  edges  of  the  desert. 

The  entire  population  lives  on  the  river,  literally 
and  figuratively.  Dark-robed  women  come  down  to 
the  stream  in  endless  processions  to  fill  their  water 
jars,  and  it  seems  that  about  every  forty  feet  or  so 

194 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

all  the  way  up  from  Cairo  the  industrious  fellah  is 
lifting  water  up  the  bank  and  irrigating  his  little 
field  with  the  same  old-fashioned  sweep  and  bucket 
arrangement  that  was  in  use  when  Joseph  came  over 
to  Egypt  and  attracted  the  attention  of  Potiphar's 
wife.  The  Egyptian  farmer  is  called  a  fellah.  The 
clothing  that  he  wears  would  wad  a  gun — that  is, 
a  rifle,  not  a  shotgun.  He  puts  in  at  least  fourteen 
hours  a  day  and  his  pay  is  from  ten  to  fifteen  cents. 
Mr.  Peasley  told  a  tourist  the  other  day  that  the  song 
"  He's  a  jolly  good  fellah "  originated  in  Egypt 
during  the  time  of  the  Ptolemies.  This  is  a  sample 
of  the  kind  of  idiotic  observation  that  is  supposed 
to  enliven  a  so-called  pleasure  trip. 

But  let  us  get  back  to  the  river,  for  in  Egypt  one 
must  get  back  to  the  river  at  least  once  every  twenty 
minutes.  The  Nile  is  Egypt  and  Egypt  is  the  Nile. 
All  this  description  may  sound  like  a  few  pages 
from  the  trusty  red  guide  book,  and  yet  the  word 
"  Egypt "  will  have  no  meaning  to  the  reader  who 
does  not  get  a  clear  panoramic  vision  of  this  wonder 
fully  slim-waisted  country.  Nearly  six  hundred  miles 
long  and  yet  containing  only  twelve  thousand  five 
hundred  square  miles — about  the  size  of  Maryland. 

The  strip  of  black  land  which  yields  the  plentiful 
crops  is  nowhere  more  than  ten  miles  wide,  a  mere 

195 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

fringe  of  fertility  weaving  along  through  dryness 
and  desolation.  Anywhere  along  the  river  if  you  will 
climb  to  the  rocky  plateau,  you  will  see  the  slow 
moving  river,  probably  a  half-mile  wide,  as  a  glassy 
thread  on  which  are  strung  fields  of  living  green, 
bordered  by  the  dreary  uplifts  of  desert.  The  trav 
eller  who  goes  by  boat  from  Cairo  to  Assouan  sees 
all  of  Egypt.  The  cities  and  temples  and  tombs  of 
olden  times  were  perched  on  the  high  spots  or  planted 
in  the  bare  hills,  so  as  to  be  safe  from  the  annual 
rise  of  waters.  Anything  worth  seeing  in  the  whole 
country  is  within  an  easy^  donkey  ride  of  the  river 
bank.  The  river  is  the  only  artery  of  travel.  There 
is  a  railway,  but  it  follows  the  river  ah1  the  way  up 
to  Assouan. 

It  would  seem  that  the  country  was  especially 
laid  out  and  punctuated  with  "  sights  "  for  the  con 
venience  of  the  modern  traveller,  for  the  visitor  who 
goes  up  the  Nile  and  stops  off  at  the  right  spots  can 
do  a  clean  job  of  sight  seeing  without  doubling  on 
his  tracks. 

Until  a  few  years  age  the  tourist  going  up  the  Nile 
had  to  take  a  dahabeah.  This  sounds  like  the  name 
of  a  disease,  but  it  is  really  a  big,  roomy,  flat-bot 
tomed  sailboat.  The  dahabeah  moves  only  when  the 
wind  is  in  the  right  direction,  and  to  go  from  Cairo 

196 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

to  Assouan  requires  the  greater  part  of  a  lifetime. 
Those  travellers  who  have  money  to  burn  and  who 
are  content  to  settle  down  to  many  weeks  of  rest 
and  indolence  charter  the  private  dahabeahs.  When 
a  traveller  goes  aboard  a  dahabeah  he  tears  up  the 
calendar  and  lets  his  watch  run  down.  Those  who 
have  more  money  and  are  in  a  hurry  use  the  private 
steam  dahabeahs. 

A  majority  of  travellers  go  by  passenger  boats. 
The  tourist  steamers  devote  three  weeks  to  a  loafing 
voyage  up  to  Assouan  and  back,  with  daily  excur 
sions  to  the  graveyards  and  ruins.  The  express 
steamers,  carrying  freight  and  native  passengers, 
take  less  time  for  the  round  trip,  as  they  skip  some 
of  the  less  interesting  antiquities.  We  took  an  ex 
press  steamer,  thereby  missing  many  of  the  tombs 
and  temples,  but  still  getting  enough  of  them  to  last 
us  for  the  next  hundred  years  or  so. 

Our  steamer  is  a  frail  affair,  double  decked  and 
of  no  draught  worth  mentioning.  It  resembles  the 
old  style  of  Missouri  River  boat,  built  to  run  on  a 
heavy  dew.  There  are  thirty  passengers,  who  devote 
most  of  their  time  to  lolling  on  deck  waiting  for  the 
next  meal.  Mud  banks,  natives  hoisting  water,  green 
fields  stretching  away  to  the  bald  range  of  hills, 
'dobe  huts,  spindly  palms,  now  and  then  a  solemn 

197 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

row  of  camels,  always  several  donkeys  and  goats  in 
evidence,  every  few  miles  the  tall  stack  of  a  sugar 
mill,  perpetual  sunshine — it  is  monotonous  travel, 
and  yet  there  is  continually  something  doing  along 
the  banks,  and  the  traveller  cannot  get  away  from 


Lying  back  to  watch  others  work 

that  feeling  of  satisfaction  which  results  from  lying 
back  to  watch  other  people  work. 

And   the   sunsets!  You   cannot  estimate   the   real 
dignity  and  artistic  value  of  a  camel  until  you  see 

198 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

him  or  her  silhouetted  against  a  sky  of  molten  gold 
just  at  twilight.  I  have  made  two  or  three  attempts 
to  describe  the  glory  of  a  sunset  in  the  desert,  but 
I  find  myself  as  helpless  as  Mr.  Peasley,  who,  after 
gazing  for  five  minutes  at  the  flaming  horizon  can 
only  murmur  a  low  but  reverent  "  Gosh ! " 

It  may  interest  the  reader  to  hear  what  Baedeker 
has  to  say  on  the  subject.  Baedeker  says  (p.  216) 
"  The  sunsets  are  very  fine."  That's  what  I  like 
about  Baedeker.  He  doesn't  fuss  over  a  lot  of  words 
and  tack  on  superfluous  adjectives.  As  soon  as  he 
has  imparted  the  necessary  information  in  a  trim 
and  concise  manner  he  moves  on  to  the  next  subject. 

I  am  sending  herewith  two  sketches  which  show 
the  beauty  and  variety  of  landscape  to  which  we  are 
treated  every  day.  View  No.  1  is  most  characteristic. 
We  see  before  us  the  rippling  Nile  and  beyond  it 
the  sheer  river  bank  of  black  dirt.  Then  the  field  of 
waving  grain,  in  the  distance  the  range  of  hills,  and 
over  all  a  dazzling  sunshine. 

No.  2  is  more  varied.  Again  we  have  the  river,  the 
mud  bank,  and  the  growing  crops,  together  with  the 
distant  hills,  behind  which  the  sun  is  silently  sinking. 
In  the  foreground  at  the  left  is  a  majestic  palm. 
The  structure  at  the  right  is  a  native  house  and  will 
indicate  something  of  the  simple  life  of  the  agricul- 

199 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

turist.  The  complicated  device  on  the  river  bank  at 
stage  centre  is  the  shadouf,  used  for  lifting  water 
from  the  stream.  The  cavernous  opening  in  the  dis 
tant  hill  (marked  X  in  the  drawing)  is  the  entrance 
to  a  rock  tomb.  By  studying  this  picture  the  reader 


View   of  the  Nile — No.    1 

may  get  a  very  fair  understanding  of  the  architec 
tural  splendour  of  these  ancient  seuplchres. 

Travelling  on  the  Nile  has  two  reliable  features 
to  commend  it.  The  weather  is  always  fair  and  the 
native  population  constantly  enlivens  the  picture,  for 
the  lower  river  is  crowded  with  sails  and  every  inch 
along  the  banks  is  under  cultivation.  Also,  the  Nile 

200 


DASHING    UP    THE    NILE 

has  some  surprises  in  store.  Two  definite  delusions 
are  soon  shattered. 

Delusion  No.  1. — HEAT.  It  is  not  always  warm 
in  Egypt.  In  the  middle  of  the  day,  out  of  the  wind 


View  of  the  Nile — No.   2 

and  on  the  desert,  it  may  work  up  to  a  good  summery 
temperature  at  this  season,  but  in  the  shade  it  is  cool, 
and  as  soon  as  the  sun  has  set,  a  bracing  autumnal 
chill  comes  into  the  air  and  the  heavy  overcoat  is 
needed.  The  north  wind  can  be  very  chiselly  at 
times.  If  coming  to  Egypt,  bring  your  flannels 
along. 

201 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Delusion  No.  2.— CROCODILES.  There  are  no 
crocodiles  in  the  Nile.  We  have  always  supposed  that 
the  bank  of  the  river  was  polka-dotted  with  these 
monsters,  lying  in  wait  for  small,  dark  children.  It  is 
said  that  two  thousand  years  ago  the  Nile  was  bor 
dered  with  papyrus  reeds  or  bullrushes,  within  the 
tangles  of  which  lurked  hippopotami,  crocodiles, 
dragomans,  and  other  reptiles,  but  the  animals  have 
disappeared,  and  so  has  the  river  vegetation.  The 
other  day  we  visited  the  island  on  which  Pharaoh's 
daughter  discovered  little  Moses.  The  island  is  still 
there,  but  there  isn't  a  bullrush  within  a  mile  of  it. 

One  of  the  penalties  of  travel  is  to  have  old  and 
settled  beliefs  uprooted.  For  instance,  there  are  no 
Maltese  cats  in  Malta,  no  Venetian  blinds  in  Venice, 
no  Roman  punch  in  Rome.  If  you  want  Neapolitan 
ice  cream  in  Naples  you  must  send  out  for  it.  You 
may  walk  about  all  day  in  Bologna  without  seeing 
a  pound  of  Bologna  sausage.  Egyptian  cigarettes 
are  known  throughout  the  world,  and  yet  no  tobacco 
is  grown  in  Egypt.  Go  to  Manhattan  Beach  and 
everybody  is  drinking  Martinis.  Truly,  the  stereo 
typed  labels  are  deceptive. 


202 


CHAPTER    XV 

DAY  BY  DAY  ON  THE  DROWSY  NILE.     WITH 
SOMETHING   ABOUT   THE   WON 
DERFUL    HASSIM 

WHILE  we  were  in  London  we  dined  one  evening 
at  a  gorgeous  hotel  with  a  Mr.  Brewster,  of  Con 
necticut.  After  dinner,  Mr.  Peasley  told  the  waiter 
to  bring  some  "  good  cigars."  Mr.  Peasley  resides 
in  Iowa,  where  it  is  customary  to  stroll  down  to  the 
drug  store  after  supper  and  buy  a  couple  of  Lottie 
Lees,  which  are  so  good  that  the  druggist  cannot 
afford  to  give  six  for  a  quarter.  Not  being  familiar 
with  the  favourite  brands  of  London,  he  called  on 
Mr.  Brewster  to  name  the  cigar  of  his  choice,  and 
Mr.  Brewster  said  he  was  very  fond  of  the  Corona 
del  Matadora,  or  something  like  that,  because  the 
entire  crop  in  Cuba  was  taken  over  by  a  London 
dealer,  and  they  could  not  be  obtained  in  New  York 
for  love  or  money.  The  waiter  brought  what  ap 
peared  to  be  a  very  superior  article  of  stogie,  and 
after  they  had  been  passed  around,  Mr.  Peasley  put 
several  into  his  pockets,  as  we  were  going  to  a  music 

203 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

hall,  and  Mr.  Peasley  had  learned  that  tobacco  acted 
as  a  sedative  and  helped  one  to  remain  calm  while 
listening  to  British  jokes. 

"  How  much?  "  he  asked. 

"  Three  and  six,"  replied  the  waiter. 


Each"  said  the  waiter 


Mr.  Peasley  handed  him  three  and  six. 
"  Each,"  said  the  waiter. 

Mr.    Peasley    swallowed   something   and   his   eyes 
leaned  from  their  sockets,  but  he  said  nothing.  He 

204 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

handed  over  two  sovereigns,  and  the  change  that 
came  back  to  him  was  almost  sufficient  for  the 
waiter's  tip.  There  was  a  brief  silence  and  then  Mr. 
Peasley  said : — "  Three  shillings  is  seventy-five  cents 
— seventy-five  and  twelve  make  eighty-seven." 

Another  silence. 

"  Eighty-seven  cents,"  sighed  Mr,  Peasley. 
"  Three  bushels  of  oats  for  a  cigar ! " 

When  Mr.  Brewster  crossed  our  trail  in  Egypt 
and  became  our  fellow  'passenger  on  a  Nile  steamer 
Mr.  Peasley  remembered  him  and  longed  for  a  chance 
to  get  even. 

Our  friend  from  Connecticut  was  wearing  a  large 
canopy  helmet — the  kind  that  makes  a  short  man 
look  like  a  walking  piano-stool.  We  were  wearing  the 
same  outlandish  style  of  headgear  and  for  some  rea 
son  or  other,  no  person  being  responsible  for  what 
he  does  when  he  is  away  from  home,  Mr.  Peasley 
had  his  name  boldly  marked  in  Arabic  on  the  front 
of  his  helmet.  It  didn't  look  like  anything,  but  it 
was  real  Arabic  and  said  his  name  was  Peasley  and 
that  he  came  from  Iowa  and  he  was  very  proud  of 
it.  He  urged  Mr.  Brewster  to  have  his  helmet  marked 
in  a  similar  way. 

"  I  hardly  like  the  idea  of  wearing  my  name  on 
my  hat,"  said  the  man  from  Connecticut. 

205 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

w  But  when  you  get  home  and  hang  the  thing  up 
in  your  den  with  the  Navajo  blankets  and  swords 
and  other  curios,  think  what  a  fine  souvenir  it  will 
be,"  urged  Mr.  Peasley. 

Mr.  Brewster  finally  consented  and  Mr.  Peasley 
took  the  helmet  to  the  head  steward,  who  was  a 
native,  and  in  a  few  minutes  he  brought  it  back 
magnificently  lettered  all  over  the  front.  It  surely 
did  look  Oriental  and  decorative  and  Mr.  Brewster 
was  grateful  when  he  saw  h'ow  beautifully  his  name 
and  New  England  address  showed  up  in  Arabic. 

That  afternoon  we  landed  at  Assiut,  which  is  head 
quarters  for  a  most  wolfish  assortment  of  guides, 
street  peddlers,  and  hold-up  men  who  work  in  the 
bazaars.  Most  of  them  are  Copts  and  claim  to  be 
good  Christians,  but  we  did  not  feel  impelled  to 
throw  up  our  hats  on  that  account.  When  they  bore 
down  upon  us  and  started  to  wrestle  with  us  we 
could  hardly  distinguish  any  difference  between  them 
and  the  ordinary  heathen. 

From  the  moment  that  we  landed,  Mr.  Brewster 
of  Connecticut  attracted  more  attention  than  any 
other  person  in  the  party.  Four  guides  laid  hold  of 
him  at  the  same  moment  and  declined  to  let  go. 
Later  on,  in  the  bazaar,  every  dealer  who  sighted 
him  gave  a  glad  guttural  cry  and  tried  to  drag  him 

206 


207 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

into  one  of  the  stuffy  little  shops.  The  arrival  of  an 
ordinary  tourist  is  calculated  to  agitate  a  bazaar, 
but  when  Mr.  Brewster  appeared  the  general  effect 
was  the  same  as  when  the  raw  meat  is  carried  into 
the  zoo.  He  was  pulled  and  hauled  and  for  the  whole 
length  of  the  winding  bazaar  his  way  was  blocked 
by  frantic  villains  in  white  gowns  and  huge  turbans, 
who  dangled  tawdry  merchandise  in  front  of  him 
and  begged  him  to  make  an  offer.  Mr.  Brewster  was 
a  good  deal  amazed,  and  we  were  more  or  less  puzzled 
until  we  came  back  to  the  boat  and  Mr.  Peasley 
confessed  that  the  Arabic  characters  boldly  dis 
played  on  Mr.  Brewster's  helmet  did  not  stand  for 
his  name  and  address  at  all,  but  meant,  as  nearly  as 
could  be  translated,  "  Rich  American — Easy  Mark." 

Poor  Mr.  Brewster!  At  the  present  writing  he  is 
still  wearing  that  bold  label,  wandering  in  and  out 
of  shops  and  around  hotels,  inviting  the  attacks 
of  guides,  donkey  boys,  servants,  and  peddlers.  It 
seemed  a  rather  low-down  trick,  but  Mr.  Peasley 
said  that  probably  it  would  flatter  Mr.  Brewster  to 
learn  that  anyone  from  Connecticut  could  attract 
so  much  attention  in  a  foreign  country. 

Arabic  is  surely  a  weird  excuse  for  a  language. 
In  its  written  form  it  looks  like  the  bird-track  illus 
trations  in  one  of  Thompson  Seton  Thompson's 

208 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

books,  and  instead  of  reading  it  from  left  to  right 
you  begin  at  the  tail  end  of  a  sentence  and  back  up 
all  the  way.  In  reading  an  Arabic  novel  you  turn 
to  the  end  of  the  book  and  read  the  last  chapter 
first,  and  if  it  develops  that  the  fellow  marries  the 
girl,  naturally  that  saves  a  lot  of  trouble.  In  its 
right  to  left  character  the  Arabic  is  somewhat  like 
the  Hebrew  or  Lower  Broadway  language,  which 
also  begins  at  the  leaving-off  place.  This  fact  re 
minded  a  New  York  man  of  a  story.  He  said  that 
in  one  of  the  east  side  Assembly  districts  of  New 
York  city  a  large  body  of  Yiddish  voters,  recently 
arrived  in  the  land  of  the  somewhat  free  and  the 
home  of  the  more  or  less  brave,  had  been  rounded  up 
very  carefully  by  the  Tammany  workers.  The  voters 
were  not  familiar  with  the  workings  of  the  Australian 
ballot  system,  and  had  to  be  instructed  by  the  Tam 
many  ward  heelers,  who  said : — "  All  you  have  to  do 
is  to  put  a  cross  mark  in  the  circle  at  the  top  of  the 
first  column,  see?"  That  seemed  simple  enough,  so 
the  voters  went  into  the  booths  and  marked  the  first 
— that  is,  the  right  hand — column,  and  elected  the 
Prohibition  candidate. 

The  Arabic  language,  when  spoken,  sounds  very 
much  like  an  agitated  person  trying  to  dislodge  a 
fish  bone.  It  is  one  of  the  most  unmusical  tongues 

209 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

in  the  world  and  offers  no  tempting  inducements  to 
the  student,  yet  Mr.  Peasley  actually  bought  one 
of  those  "  Arabic  at  a  Glance  "  books  and  started 
to  learn  some  of  the  more  useful  sentences.  He  said 
that  if  he  could  get  Arabic  down  pat  he  would  pass 
as  a  native  and  be  enabled  to  buy  things  at  about 
half  price.  After  two  days  of  hard  study  he  at 
tempted  a  conversation  with  a  military  policeman 
standing  on  the  river  bank  at  Dendera.  Mr.  Peasley 
strolled  up  to  him,  careless  like,  and  said,  "  Ana 
awez  arabiyet  kwayesset  min  shan  arookh  el  balad." 
That  was  supposed  to  mean,  "  I  want  a  first-class 
carriage  for  driving  in  the  town."  The  stalwart 
soldier  gazed  at  Mr.  Peasley  with  a  most  bewildered 
look  in  his  jet  black  eyes  and  then  began  to  edge 
away. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Mr.  Peasley.  "  How  about  hal 
yel  zamna  ghafar  yerafegua  bill  tareeg?  " 

Mr,  Peasley  thought  he  was  asking,  "  Shall  we 
require  a  guide  or  an  escort  in  this  town  ?  " 

The  soldier  beckoned  to  us  to  come  over  and  help 
him  out. 

"  Tell  him,  please,  that  I  am  educate  at  the  Presby 
terian  Mission,"  said  he.  "  I  speak  only  English  and 
Arabic." 

We  questioned  him  later  and  learned  that  he  took 
210 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

Mr.  Peasley  to  be  a  Russian.  This  one  little  experi 
ence  rather  discouraged  our  travelling  companion. 
He  said  it  was  foolish  to  waste  important  dialogue 


"  How  about  hal  yel  zamna  ghafar  yerafegua 
bill  tareeg?" 

on  a  lot  of  benighted  ignorami  who  did  not  know  their 
own  language. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  English  carries  the  tourist 
everywhere  in  Egypt.  The  American  Mission  School, 

211 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

supported  by  the  Presbyterians,  is  a  proud  local 
institution  in  each  good-sized  town.  At  every  land 
ing  along  the  river  small  boys  from  the  mission 
schools  would  come  down  to  the  boat  to  ask  for 
English  books.  These  requests  were  such  a  welcome 
variation  from  the  everlasting  howl  for  "  bak 
sheesh  "  that  the  over-generous  passengers  soon  gave 
away  all  the  reading  matter  on  board  and  had  noth 
ing  left  for  themselves  except  Baedekers  and  time 
tables.  I  saw  a  silver-haired  old  lady  from  Phila 
delphia  give  to  a  coal-black  and  half-naked  child 
of  eight  a  volume  of  Browning's  poems  in  paper 
cover.  The  dusky  infant  clasped  the  book  to  his 
bare  bosom  and  shouted  his  thanks  as  the  boat  headed 
up  stream,  and  the  old  lady  was  so  gratified  and 
happy  that  she  stood  looking  at  him  with  tear-dim 
med  eyes  and  never  gave  a  thought  as  to  what  might 
happen  to  his  intellect.  At  one  town,  just  as  we 
were  casting  off,  I  threw  an  American  magazine  to 
a  handsome  little  tike  who  had  been  asking  for  Eng 
lish  literature.  It  fell  on  the  dock,  and  twenty 
small  boys  began  fighting  for  it  and  tearing  it  to 
pieces.  I  never  saw  such  a  thirst  for  advertising 
matter. 

Our  voyage  from  Cairo  to  Luxor  was  punctuated 
with  so  many  new  experiences  that  possibly  it  would 

212 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

be  better  to  take  them  in  order.  Egypt  is  the  land 
of  leisurely  travel.  If  you  look  at  the  map  the  dis 
tance  from  Cairo  to  Luxor  seems  only  a  good  hop, 
skip,  and  jump.  It  is  458  miles  by  rail  and  the 
lightning  express  does  it  in  fifteen  hours,  the  same 
being  considered  a  record  performance.  Our  boat 
left  Cairo  one  Friday  afternoon  and  arrived  at  Luxor 
the  following  Thursday  morning.  We  chugged 
slowly  against  the  current  all  the  way,  tying  up  every 
night  and  getting  away  before  daybreak  next  morn 
ing.  Several  times  we  changed  pilots.  The  Nile 
pilot  is  usually  a  grizzled  old  sheikh  with  the  doubt 
ful  combination  of  a  department  store  spring  over 
coat  and  a  red  fez.  He  stands  at  the  wheel  bossing 
the  crew  while  the  ostensible  captain  or  manager, 
who  is  a  budding  European  in  a  neat  uniform,  has 
nothing  much  to  do  except  circulate  on  the  upper 
deck  and  pour  tea  for  a  little  cluster  of  intellectual 
giantesses  from  England.  Two  sailors  stand  well 
forward  on  the  lower  deck,  one  on  each  side,  jabbing 
at  the  river  with  poles  in  order  to  get  the  depth  of 
the  channel.  If  the  boat  runs  into  water  less  than 
six  inches  deep  they  become  alarmed  and  start  to 
yelp.  Occasionally  the  gallant  craft  strikes  a  bar 
and  comes  to  a  tired  pause,  whereupon  all  the  passen 
gers  say  "  Mgh ! "  and  lurch  out  of  their  camp 

213 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

stools.  Then  there  is  a  little  welcome  excitement  and 
the  natives  of  the  crew  run  around  in  circles  and 
call  upon  Allah  for  temporary  assistance.  With 
much  grunting,  both  by  the  boat  and  the  men  at 
the  poles,  the  good  Hatasoo  backs  out  of  the  mud 
and  takes  a  fresh  start,  zigzagging  through  the 
shallows  until  deep  water  is  found — that  is,  a  depth 
of  anywhere  from  three  to  four  feet.  The  Nile  is 
just  as  finical  and  unreliable  as  a  Missouri  or  Missis 
sippi,  the  tortuous  channel  constantly  shifting,  and 
the  pilot  needs  to  be  an  expert  with  a  memory  like  an 
encyclopaedia.  Fortunately  there  are  no  snags. 
Wood  is  about  the  most  precious  commodity  in 
Egypt,  and  all  the  snags  were  fished  out  and  utilised 
some  two  thousand  years  before  we  happened  along. 
Although  our  voyage  lasted  five  full  days  we  went 
ashore  only  three  times.  As  I  have  already  explained, 
the  traveller  need  not  leave  the  Nile  steamer  in  order 
to  see  nearly  everything  that  is  happening  in  Egypt. 
Leaving  Cairo  late  on  Friday  afternoon,  we  made 
two  stops  on  Saturday  to  discharge  freight  and  take 
on  natives.  Many  of  the  women  came  aboard  closely 
veiled  and  were  at  once  secreted  in  a  canvas  compart 
ment  on  the  lower  deck.  These  precautions  seemed 
to  be  needless.  Two  adjectives  will  best  describe  the 
pride  of  the  harem — shabby  and  flabby.  Unless  you 

214 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 
wish  to  lose  all  enthusiasm  for  the  Arabian  Nights, 
keep  away  from  Egypt. 

Sunday. — Arriving  at  Beni  Hassan  at  ten  o'clock 
we  went  ashore  and  climbed  on  midget  donkeys  and 
rode  away  to  explore  the  rock  tombs.  Beni  Hassan 
has  been  for  several  centuries  the  home  of  an  ob 
streperous  breed  of  cutthroats.  Repeated  attempts 
have  been  made  to  exterminate  or  scatter  the  tribe, 
but  it  is  still  in  existence,  although  somewhat  sub 
dued.  The  government  keeps  a  guard  of  soldiers  at 
the  town,  and  when  we  landed  we  found  ourselves  sur 
rounded  by  the  military,  while  the  natives  stood  back 
of  the  dead-line  and  gazed  at  us  hungrily.  There 
we  began  to  get  close  glimpses  of  the  domestic  life 
of  the  plain  people. 

A  mud  wall  enclosure  with  a  hut  at  one  end. 
Within  this  squalid  pen,  women  in  bedraggled 
black  gowns,  children  in  semi-attire  and  closely  at 
tended  by  swarms  of  flies,  two  or  three  emaciated 
goats,  a  few  chickens,  and  a  somnolent  burro.  At 
present  the  live  stock  and  the  Egyptians  live  on 
terms  of  democratic  equality,  but  since  the  English 
have  introduced  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of 
Cruelty  to  Animals  it  is  hoped  that  the  situation  will 
be  remedied. 

On  Monday,  at  two  o'clock,  we  landed  at  Assiut, 
215 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

after  passing  through  the  locks  of  the  first  big 
barrage  or  dam  built  under  British  direction  and 
intended  to  regulate  the  water  level  of  the  lower 
Nile  and  the  delta  during  the  dry  season.  Assiut  is 
a  big  town  with  some  showy  buildings,  an  attractive 
bazaar,  and  a  guide  who  represents  the  thirty-third 
degree  of  scoundrelism.  His  name  is  Hassim.  If  you 
should  visit  Assiut  and  wish  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  very  pink  and  flower  of  villainy,  hunt  up 
Hassim.  Perhaps  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  hunt  him 
up.  He  will  be  waiting  for  you,  just  as  he  was  wait 
ing  for  us.  When  we  went  ashore  we  were  attacked 
by  a  flying  wedge  of  donkey  boys  and  carriage  driv 
ers,  all  shrieking  like  demons  and  kicking  up  such 
clouds  of  dust  as  can  be  found  only  in  a  country 
where  the  showers  are  a  century  apart.  By  striking 
out  right  and  left  we  held  off  our  assailants  and  suc 
ceeded  in  boarding  a  rickety  victoria.  When  we 
escaped  from  the  clamour  and  the  clouds  of  dust  and 
took  our  bearings  Hassim  was  on  the  box  alongside 
of  the  driver.  He  had  attached  himself  to  us  on  his 
own  invitation  and  we  are  glad  that  he  did  so,  for 
he  proved  to  be  a  rascal  of  such  inventive  fancy  and 
such  unusual  methods  of  attack  that  our  natural 
resentment  was  fairly  lost  in  admiration.  He  was  tall 
and  lean,  with  a  stern  and  military  countenance  and 

216 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

one  eye  set  at  an  angle.  His  manner  was  imperious 
and  from  the  moment  when  he  fastened  himself  upon 
us  he  was  in  absolute  charge  of  the  expedition. 

"  Fear  not,"  he  said,  holding  up  his  hand  im 
pressively,  "  I  shall  protect  you.  You  shall  see  the 
rock  tombs  and  the  grand  view  of  the  valley  and  the 
great  bazaar  of  Assiut  and  no  one  shall  do  you  harm, 
for  I  am  Hassim,  son  of  Abdalla." 

This  had  a  most  assuring  sound,  so  we  made  no 
resistance.  For  several  hours  he  marched  ahead  of 
us,  proclaiming  our  social  importance  and  ordering 
people  out  of  the  way,  and  every  ten  minutes  he  led 
us  into  some  carefully  concealed  trap  and  tried  to 
separate  us  from  our  piasters.  All  the  time  he  went 
through  the  motions  of  defending  our  interests  and 
fighting  back  those  who  would  defraud  us.  For 
instance,  in  the  bazaar.  In  a  thoughtless  moment  I 
had  said  that  I  wished  to  purchase  an  ebony  walking- 
stick.  He  led  us  to  a  dealer  in  walking-sticks,  and 
here  the  following  drama  was  .played  for  our 
benefit : — 

Hassim  (to  dealer) — This  distinguished  gentle 
man  wishes  to  buy  an  ebony  walking-stick.  Show  him 
your  best  goods  and  let  the  price  be  fair  or  never 
more  shall  I  bring  customers  to  your  vile  shop.  (To 
the  crowd  jostling  in  upon  us) — Stand  back!  Do 

217 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

not  crowd  upon  the  honourable  gentlemen  from 
America, 

Dealer  (showing  an  ebony  stick  with  a  badly 
carved  handle  of  bone,  supposed  to  be  ivory) — Ah, 
see!  Yes!  Verra  good  stick!  Is  it  not?  Verra  cheap. 

I  (looking  at  it  coldly  and  shaking  my  head  as  if 
in  disapproval) — How  much? 

Dealer — Verra  cheap — only  twenty  shilling. 

Hassim — Wha-a-t!  (He  rushes  upon  the  dealer, 
smites  him  on  the  chest  with  his  open  hand  and  then 
tries  to  choke  him).  Oh,  dog!  Oh,  unclean  animal! 
Twenty  shilling!  (To  us)  Come!  Let  us  go  away. 
He  is  bad  man.  Come! 

Dealer  (entreatingly) — You  make  me  offer.  How 
much  you  give? 

Hassim — Oh,  child  of  darkness !  Oh,  crawling 
crocodile!  You  are  trying  to  cheat  the  hig'h-born 
visitors. 

Dealer  (cringingly) — How  much  you  give? 

Hassim  (to  me) — Come,  I  will  speak  with  you 
ilone.  (He  leads  me  away  from  the  crowd  and  talks 
to  me  in  a  husky  whisper.)  This  man  is  bad  man. 
Do  not  pay  him  twenty  bob.  No  one  is  looking.  You 
slip  the  money  to  me  and  I  will  buy  it  for  fifteen. 

Now,  fifteen  shillings  is  $3.75  in  real  money,  and 
the  stick  is  worth  a  dollar  at  the  most  extravagant 

218 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

valuation ?  so  I  say  to  Hassim,  "  Are  you  in  on 
this?" 

He  does  not  understand,  but  he  looks  at  me  as  if 
hurt  or  disappointed,  and  then  says,  "  I  try  to  get 
it  for  ten.  Wait  here." 

Then  I  catch  him  by  the  slack  of  the  blue  gown 
and  say  that  I  will  not  give  ten.  I  authorise  him  to 
offer  fifteen  piasters — seventy-five  cents.  He  says  it 
will  be  useless  to  offer  such  a  small  sum,  as  the  ivory 
comes  from  the  elephant  and  hunters  must  search 
many  days  to  find  the  elephant  and  then  carry  the 
tusk  forty-seven  thousand  miles  across  the  burning 
desert  to  sell  it  to  the  dealer  in  Assiut.  So  I  tell  him 
to  stand  back  and  I  will  negotiate  in  my  own  behalf. 
So  I  break  through  the  crowd  and  offer  three  shill 
ings.  Derisive  laughter  by  the  dealer,  the  crowd 
assisting.  I  offer  four  shillings.  The  dealer  says, 
"  I  am  a  ruined  man,  but  no  matter — take  it  along 
for  eight."  Then  Hassim  elbows  his  way  back  to  the 
scene  of  trouble  and  helps  to  complicate  matters. 
He  curses  the  dealer  in  Arabic  and  says  to  me  in 
a  side  whisper  that  he  has  succeeded  in  buying  the 
stick  for  seven  shillings.  I  offer  five.  To  make  a 
long  story  short,  after  using  up  $8  worth  of  time 
and  $52  worth  of  vocal  energy,  I  buy  the  stick  for 
six  shillings,  and  when  I  return  to  the  boat  the  head 

219 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

steward  exhibits  one  just  like  it  which  he  bought 
for  two. 

This  farcical  "  grand  stand  "  play  was  repeated 
every  time  we  stopped  to  purchase  some  trifling 
specimen  of  native  junk.  One  of  the  best  per 
formances  of  the  afternoon  involved  a  mysterious 
trip  up  a  narrow  alley  and  into  a  tumbledown  house, 
where  Hassim  exhibited  to  us  four  squalling  infants, 
attended  by  many  flies  and  richly  encrusted  with  the 
soil  of  their  native  land.  Although  all  four  of  the 
children  seemed  to  be  of  about  the  same  age,  he  as 
sured  us  that  they  belonged  to  him,  and  we,  being 
unfamiliar  with  the  customs  of  Egypt,  were  not 
prepared  to  contradict  him.  He  said  it  was  custom 
ary  for  visitors  to  give  a  small  present  to  each  of 
the  children,  or,  better  still,  we  could  give  the  money 
to  him  and  he  would  hand  it  to  them  later. 

We  shall  remember  Hassim.  He  surrounded  his 
cheap  trickeries  with  such  a  glamour  of  Oriental 
ceremony  and  played  his  part  with  such  a  terrific 
show  of  earnestness  that  he  made  the  afternoon 
wholly  enjoyable.  When  we  arrived  at  the  landing 
he  and  the  driver  had  a  verbal  war,  and  then  he  took 
me  aside  for  another  heart  to  heart  talk. 

"  The  driver  is  a  child  of  evil,"  said  he.  "  I 
tremble  with  rage!  He  is  demanding  fifty  piasters. 

220 


THE    WONDERFUL    HASSIM 

Do  not  pay  him  fifty.  Give  the  money  to  me  and  I 
will  say  to  him,  4  Take  forty  or  nothing  ' !  " 

The  driver's  legal  fare  was  twenty  piasters. 
Finally  we  paid  him  twenty-five.  Everybody  was  sat 
isfied.  Then  we  paid  Hassim  for  his  services  and  sent 
presents  to  his  four  simultaneous  children,  and  the 
last  we  saw  of  him  he  was  making  a  bee-line  for  the 
bazaar  to  collect  his  commissions. 

The  decorative  tail  piece  to  this  chapter  is  my 
name  in  Arabic. 


221 


IN  LUXOR 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  MOHAMMEDAN  FLY  AND  OTHER  CREA 
TURES  LIVING  ALONG  THE  NILE 

EGYPTIAN  civilisation  is  supposed  to  be  station 
ary,  except  in  the  larger  cities.  The  fellahin  scratch 
the  rich  alluvial  soil  with  the  same  kind  of  clumsy 
wooden  plough  that  was  used  when  Marc  Antony 
came  down  from  Rome  on  a  business  trip  and  got  all 
snarled  up  with  Cleopatra.  They  live  in  the  same  type 
of  snug  mud  hut — about  the  size  of  a  lower  berth. 
They  lift  the  water  from  the  Nile  by  exactly  the 
same  wooden  sweep  that  was  in  vogue  when  Cheops 
began  work  on  the  Pyramids.  It  may  be  remarked, 
en  passant,  that  the  fellahin  are  the  farmers  of 
Egypt.  I  might  have  said  "  farmers  "  in  the  first 
place,  but  what  is  the  use  of  spending  a  month  in 
a  place  and  paying  large  hotel  bills  if  one  cannot 
pick  up  words  of  the  fellahin  description  to  parade 
up  and  down  in  front  of  his  friends  and  cause  them 
to  feel  ignorant  and  untravelled?  The  en  passant, 
which  is  tucked  in  so  neatly  above,  I  found  in  Paris. 
It  means  "  under  your  hat,"  or  something  like  that. 

225 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

It  is  impossible  to  translate  these  French  phrases 
without  sacrificing  some  of  the  piquant  significance 
of  the  original.  For  instance,  "  string  beans  "  can 
never  be  haricots  vert.  They  may  look  the  same  and 
taste  the  same,  but  when  they  are  both  on  the  bill, 
me  for  the  haricots  vert  every  time. 

To  resume : — The  outlying  districts  of  Egypt  are 
supposed  to  be  absolutely  nonprogressive.  This  is 
a  mistake.  While  driving  out  from  Assiut  to  visit 
another  cheerful  group  of  tombs  we  came  upon  a 
large  gang  of  workmen  engaged  in  improving  the 
road.  As  soon  as  the  carriage  ahead  of  ours  struck 
the  improved  road  it  turned  turtle,  and  for  a  moment 
the  air  was  full  of  jumping  tourists.  Our  convey 
ance  started  over  the  improved  section,  but  mired 
down,  so  we  got  out  and  walked  until  we  came  to  an 
unimproved  road,  and  then  we  jumped  in  and 
sped  merrily  on  our  way.  I  stopped  for  several 
minutes  to  watch  the  men  at  work,  and  I  was  deeply 
impressed  by  the  fact  that  here  in  this  heathen  land, 
where  they  had  no  normal  schools  or  farmers'  insti 
tutes  to  guide  them,  no  agricultural  weeklies  to 
beacon  them  out  of  the  darkness,  the  simple  children 
of  the  Orient  were  "  improving  "  the  roads  just  as 
I  had  seen  them  improved  during  my  boyhood  days 
in  Indiana.  In  other  words,  they  were  scooping  dirt 

226 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

out  of  the  ditch  on  either  side  and  dumping  it  in 
tall,  unsurmountable  hillocks  right  in  the  middle  of 
the  roadway.  The  most  hydrocephalous  township 
supervisor  in  the  whole  Middle  West  could  not  have 
done  a  more  imbecilic  job. 

In  Indiana  every  voter  is  required  to  "  work 
the  roads  "  or  pay  a  road  tax.  Of  late  years,  under 
intelligent  direction,  the  highways  have  been  vastly 
improved,  but  there  was  a  time  when  "  working  the 
roads  "  was  a  large  joke.  To  avoid  paying  the  tax 
the  farmer  would  have  to  go  out  with  a  team  and 
do  something  to  a  public  highway.  Usually  he 
selected  a  road  which  he  would  not  traverse  in  going 
to  town,  and  he  would  plough  it  up  and  "  scrape  " 
it  into  hollows  and  leave  it  looking  like  a  sample  of 
the  Bad  Lands  of  Montana.  As  soon  as  the  tax  was 
"  worked  out "  he  discontinued  the  improvement. 
After  two  or  three  days  of  "  working,"  a  fairly  bad 
road  could  be  made  altogether  impassable.  If  I  were 
a  military  commander  and  had  to  execute  a  retreat 
and  cut  off  any  pursuit  by  a  superior  force  I  would 
have  a  corps  of  flat-headed  township  supervisors 
bring  up  the  rear  and  "  work  "  the  roads. 

It  was  in  this  same  town  of  Assiut  that  we  visited 
one  of  the  greatest  bazaars  in  Egypt.  We  had  heard 
about  this  bazaar  every  day  since  landing.  The 

227 


228 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

traveller  who  had  been  up  the  Nile  and  who  had 
come  back  to  Cairo,  sunbaked  and  full  of  the  patro 
nising  airs  of  the  veteran,  invariably  said,  "  By  the 
way,  when  you  are  in  Assiut  you  must  see  the  ba 
zaar."  He  might  as  well  have  said,  "  When  you  are 
in  Washington  be  sure  to  take  a  look  at  the  Washing 
ton  Monument." 

"  Bazaar  "  has  a  seductive,  Far  Eastern  sound, 
the  same  as  "  mosque."  It  is  much  luckier  to  shut 
your  eyes  and  think  of  a  mosque  than  to  actually  see 
a  deserted  lime  kiln  with  an  upturned  sugar  bowl  on 
top  of  it.  The  same  for  "  bazaar,"  only  it  goes 
double.  A  bazaar  is  a  cosey  corner  gone  wrong.  If 
you  will  take  the  long  corridor  of  an  American 
second-class  hotel,  tear  off  the  roof  and  substitute 
a  canopy  of  tattered  rag  carpets,  cover  the  walls 
with  the  imitation  merchandise  of  a  five  and  ten  cent 
store,  kick  up  a  choking  dust,  turn  loose  twenty  or 
thirty  ripe  odours  and  then  have  one  hundred  and 
fifty  coffee-coloured  lunatics  all  begin  talking  at  the 
same  time,  you  will  have  a  rather  tame  imitation  of 
the  genuine  Oriental  bazaar  as  made  famous  in 
song  and  story.  The  crude  articles  sold  in  these 
bazaars,  if  displayed  in  the  windows  of  a  department 
store  in  America,  would  attract  no  attention  what 
ever,  but  the  tourist,  as  soon  as  he  has  had  a  touch 

229 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

of  the  Egyptian  sun,  seems  to  become  easy  and  irre 
sponsible,  .  and  he  wants  to  bargain  for  everything 
in  sight.  It  is  a  kind  of  temporary  mania,  known  as 
curiosis,  and  is  closely  allied  to  the  widely  prevalent 
souveniria,  or  post  card  fever,  which  attacks  even 
the  young  and  innocent. 

The  intelligent  reader  may  have  noticed  that  now 
and  then  I  have  referred  to  the  dust  of  Egypt. 
Egypt  makes  all  the  other  dusty  spots  on  earth  seem 
dank  and  waterlogged.  We  asked  truthful  Hassim, 
our  guide  at  Assiut,  if  there  had  been  any  rainfall 
lately.  He  said  that  about  five  years  ago  there  had 
been  a  light  shower,  and  during  one  of  the  Ptolemy 
administrations  there  had  been  a  regular  old 
drencher.  The  Ptolemy  family  occupied  the  throne 
about  two  thousand  years  ago.  At  home,  take  it  in  the 
dog  days,  if  we  have  no  rain  for  two  weeks  and  the 
crick  dries  up,  all  the  local  apostles  of  gloom  and  ad 
vance  agents  of  adversity  clot  themselves  together  in 
front  of  the  Post  Office  and  begin  pronouncing  fune 
ral  orations  over  the  corn  crop.  Fourteen  days  with 
out  rain  and  the  whole  country  is  on  the  toboggan, 
headed  straight  for  bankruptcy.  Yet  here  in  Egypt, 
where  they  haven't  experienced  a  really  wet  rain  for 
twenty  centuries,  the  people  go  about  cheerfully, 
and  there  is  no  complaint  regarding  Providence. 

230 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 


231 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

But  what  an  unsatisfactory  hang-out  for  the 
weather  shark !  In  Egypt  the  oldest  inhabitant  never 
gets  up  in  the  morning  and  says,  "  I'm  satisfied  we're 
going  to  have  rain  to-day,  because  my  rheumatiz 
bothered  me  all  night."  There  is  no  need  of  looking 
for  rings  around  the  moon.  You  never  hear  anyone 
say,  "  It  looks  a  little  black  in  the  north,  but  I  think 
it'll  blow  around,  because  the  wind  is  in  the  wrong 
direction."  Every  morning  the  sun  rolls  up  in  silvery 
splendour  and  surveys  the  same  old  parched  land 
scape,  with  the  strip  of  irrigated  green,  and  after  a 
leisurely  and  monotonous  day  sinks  through  a  golden 
glow  into  the  far-stretching  desert.  No  one  is  look 
ing  for  rain  or  hoping  for  it.  When  it  comes  it  is 
regarded  as  a  calamity.  It  washes  down  the  mud 
huts,  collects  in  pools  and  makes  breeding  spots  for 
microbes  and  leaks  through  hotel  roofs,  so  that 
tourists  have  to  carry  umbrellas  in  going  to  the 
dining-room.  In  March  of  this  year  there  was  a 
heavy  rainfall  around  Assouan,  extending  as  far 
north  as  Luxor,  and  when  we  came  along,  a  few 
weeks  later,  the  natives  were  still  bewailing  the  visi 
tation  of  Allah's  wrath. 

The  extreme  dryness  of  the  air  in  Egypt  causes 
the  visiting  microbe  to  feel  like  an  alien.  It  becomes 
enervated  and  discouraged,  incapable  of  initiating 

232 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

any  new  and  fashionable  epidemics.  This  same  air, 
however,  seems  to  have  a  tonic  effect  on  the  flea.  In 
no  other  clime  is  he  so  enterprising,  so  full  of  rest 
less  energy,  so  given  to  unexpected  achievements. 
During  a  dull  season,  if  there  is  a  short  supply  of 
tourists,  he  associates  with  the  natives.  He  prefers 
the  tourist,  but  come  what  may,  he  is  never  idle. 
The  bacillus,  on  the  other  hand,  has  circumscribed 
opportunities.  Inasmuch  as  the  entire  population  of 
the  country  lives  along  the  river  one  might  suppose 
that  harmful  germs  would  be  bred  and  disseminated 
by  the  billion.  Yet  both  natives  and  visitors  drink 
from  the  river  with  impunity.  "  The  sweet  water  of 
the  Nile  "  it  is  called  and  even  the  most  apprehensive 
travellers  learn  to  take  it  after  putting  in  about 
twenty  drops  of  Scotch,  so  as  to  benumb  the  bacilli, 
if  any  should  be  present.  There  is  an  explanation 
of  the  micro-organism's  failure  to  do  very  much 
harm  in  Egypt.  If  a  bacillus  living  anywhere  along 
the  Nile  starts  for  a  ramble  on  shore  he  is  sunstruck, 
and  falls  helpless  in  the  sand.  If  he  sticks  to  the 
water  the  monotony  of  travel  begins  to  wear  upon 
him,  and  after  about  seven  miles  he  dies  of  ennui. 

If  Egypt  is  a  happy  hunting  ground  for  the  flea  it 
is  likewise  a  paradise  for  the  fly.  If  I  had  to  be  some 
thing  in  Egypt  I  should  prefer  to  be  a  Mohammedan 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

fly.  This  little  creature,  which  in  most  countries  is 
hounded  and  persecuted  and  openly  regarded  as  a 
pest,  is  treated  with  consideration  in  Egypt — hu 
moured,  petted,  indulged,  actually  spoiled.  In  the  U. 
S.  A.  a  fly  is  almost  as  unpopular  as  the  millionaire. 


In  the  U.  S.  A.  the  fly  is  almost  as  unpopular  as  a 
millionaire 

He  is  wary,  fretful,  and  suspicious,  because  he  knows 
that  all  humanity  is  joined  in  a  conspiracy  to  put 
him  out  of  business.  If  he  strolls  up  to  a  pool  of 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

water,  temptingly  set  forth  in  a  white  bowl,  he  finds 
himself  a  few  minutes  later  writhing  in  cramps  and 
full  of  corrosive  sublimate.  He  sees  what  appears  to 
be  a  tempting  luncheon  of  sweets  and  when  he  starts 
in  to  serve  himself  he  discovers  that  he  is  caught  and 
held  by  the  treacherous  "  tanglefoot  "  mixture.  He 
sees  a  sign,  "  This  way  to  the  dining-room,"  and 
after  passing  through  a  long  corridor  he  lands  in 
a  wire  trap  from  which  there  is  no  escape.  If  he 
alights  on  a  bald  head  and  trys  to  use  it  as  a  rink 
somebody  strikes  at  him  and  calls  him  names. 

It  is  all  different  in  Egypt.  The  greatest  indignity 
that  a  Mohammedan  ever  offers  a  fly  is  to  give  him 
a  gentle  shove  and  request  him  to  move  on.  It  is 
contrary  to  the  religious  teachings  to  kill  or  even 
cripple  this  diminutive  household  companion.  The 
belief  in  the  transmigration  of  souls  seems  to  prevail 
everywhere  in  the  mystical  East,  and  perhaps  the 
fly  that  follows  and  nags  you  all  afternoon  may 
harbour  the  spiritual  essence  of  a  former  head  waiter 
or  a  bey  or  some  other  dignitary.  When  the  flies 
assemble  in  large  numbers  around  the  various  aper 
tures  of  a  baby's  face,  the  child,  obeying  an  instinct 
of  self-defence,  tries  to  "  spat  "  them  and  drive  them 
away.  But  the  mother  restrains  the  infant  by  hold 
ing  its  hands  and  the  flies  give  themselves  over  to 

235 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

unmolested  enjoyment.  The  older  children  have 
learned  their  lesson  and  seldom  make  any  effort  to 
brush  away  the  flies  which  loiter  all  over  their  bright 
young  features.  This  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to  talk 
about,  but  inasmuch  as  the  fly  is  omnipresent  during 
a  trip  up  the  Nile  and  this  friendly  understanding 
between  the  fly  and  the  native  is  constantly  under  the 
traveller's  observation,  a  description  of  Egypt  would 
be  sadly  incomplete  without  a  chapter  on  the  fly. 

Having  been  a  privileged  class  for  many  genera 
tions,  the  flies  are  impudent  and  familiar  to  a  degree. 
When  the  white  unbeliever,  with  no  conscientious 
scruples  against  murder,  comes  up  the  river,  they 
swarm  about  him  and  buzz  into  his  ears,  "  Welcome 
to  our  city."  Then  when  he  begins  sparring  with 
them  and  using  sulphurous  language,  they  gather 
about  him  in  augmented  numbers  and  dodge  when 
he  strikes  and  side  step  when  he  slaps  himself  and 
seem  to  think  that  he  is  trying  to  teach  them  some 
new  kind  of  a  "  tag  "  game.  The  Mohammedan  fly 
cannot  by  any  effort  of  the  imagination  bring  him 
self  to  believe  that  a  human  being  would  wilfully 
injure  him.  This  feeling  of  overconfidence  in  man 
kind  breeds  carelessness,  and  during  the  open  season 
for  tourists  many  of  them  are  laid  low.  Mr.  Peasley 
said  that  if  there  was  anything  in  the  transmigra- 

236 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

tion  theory,  he  figured  that  he  had  massacred  a 
regiment  of  soldiers,  several  boards  of  directors,  a 
high  school  and  an  insane  asylum.  The  mortalities 
during  the  tourist  season  do  not  seem  to  lower  the 
visible  supply  or  in  any  way  discourage  the  sur 
viving  millions. 

When  we  started  up  the  river  a  peddler  came  to 
the  boat  and  offered  us  some  small  fly  brooms.  They 
are  very  much  like  the  brush  used  by  the  apprentice 
in  a  blacksmith  shop  to  protect  the  horse  that  is 
being  shod.  The  brush  part  is  made  of  split  palm 
leaves  or  horsehair  and  the  handle  is  decorated  with 
beadwork.  The  idea  of  a  person  sitting  about  and 
whisking  himself  with  this  ornamental  duster  struck 
us  as  being  most  unusual,  not  to  say  idiotic.  Before 
we  travelled  far  up  the  Nile  we  had  joined  the  grand 
army  of  whiskers.  The  fly  broom  is  essential.  It  is 
needed  every  eight  seconds.  At  Luxor  we  went  out 
to  see  a  gymkhana  under  the  auspices  of  the  Luxor 
Sporting  Club  and  every  one  of  the  two  hundred 
spectators  sat  there  wearily  slapping  himself  about 
the  head  with  the  tufted  fly  brush  while  looking  at 
the  races. 

The  Luxor  Sporting  Club  is  not  as  dangerous  as 
it  sounds.  The  presiding  judge  of  the  races  was  a 
minister  of  the  gospel  and  the  receipts  were  given 

237 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

to  local  charities.  A  gymkhana  is  the  last  resort  of 
a  colony  shut  off  from  the  metropolitan  forms 
of  amusement,  and  yet  it  can  be  made  the  source  of 
much  hilarious  fun.  Nothing  could  have  been  more 
frivolous  than  the  programme  at  Luxor,  and  yet  the 
British  spectators  seldom  gave  way  to  mirth.  Doubt 
less  they  were  laughing  inwardly.  Several  ponder 
ous  committees  had  charge  of  the  arrangements  and 
attended  to  them  with  due  solemnity. 

First  there  was  a  race  between  native  water-car 
riers,  distance  about  three  hundred  yards,  and  each 
contestant  carrying  a  goat  skin  filled  with  water. 
Then  there  was  a  donkey  boys'  race,  each  rider  being 
required  to  ride  backward.  This  enabled  him  to  en 
courage  his  mount  by  twisting  the  tail.  In  the 
donkey  race  for  ladies  several  of  the  contestants  fell 
off  gracefully  and  were  carried  to  the  refreshment 
booth,  where  they  revived  on  tea.  The  "  affinity 
race "  was  an  interesting  feature.  The  contestants 
rode  their  donkeys  in  pairs,  a  gentleman  and  a  lady 
holding  a  long  ribbon  between  them.  They  were  re 
quired  to  gallop  about  two  hundred  yards,  turn  a 
post,  and  return  to  the  starting  point  without  letting 
go  of  the  ribbon.  By  far  the  most  exciting  features 
of  the  programme  were  the  camel  and  buffalo  races. 
These  animals  have  associated  with  the  hysterical 

238 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

natives  so  long  that  they  have  lost  all  of  their 
natural  horse  sense  and  are  quite  daft  and  irre 
sponsible.  At  the  word  "  Go ! "  instead  of  running 
down  the  course,  they  would  snort  madly  and  start 
off  in  all  directions.  If  any  of  them  finished  under 
the  wire  it  was  by  mere  chance  and  not  because  of 
any  guiding  intelligence.  One  demented  water  buf 
falo  turned  and  ran  at  right  angles  to  the  course. 
The  last  we  saw  of  him  he  was  disappearing  over  a 
hill  toward  the  setting  sun,  with  the  native  jockey 
riding  on  all  parts  of  the  upper  deck,  from  the  horns 
back  to  the  tail. 

The  gymkhana  is  intended  to  provide  an  afternoon 
of  undiluted  nonsense,  and  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  find  reason  tottering  on  her  throne  and  who 
don't  care  what  they  do  as  long  as  they  enjoy  them 
selves,  I  shall  append  a  few  sample  competitions 
from  an  Egyptian  programme  and  suggest  that  they 
be  tried  in  America. 

Bucket  Contest — Competitors  to  gallop  past 
three  buckets,  throwing  a  potato  into  each  bucket. 
Marks  to  be  given  for  pace.  Best  of  two  runs. 

Hat  Trimming  Competition — Gentleman  to  ride 
to  lady  with  parcel  containing  hat  and  trimmings. 
Lady  to  trim  hat  and  gentleman  to  return  to  the 
winning  post  wearing  hat. 

239 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Dak  Race — Competitors  to  drive  at  the  trot  about 
one-half  mile,  unharness  and  saddle  same  pony  and 
ride  200  yards,  returning  to  the  winning  post. 

Housekeeping  Stakes — Gentleman  on  side  saddle 
to  ride  to  lady  and  give  her  envelope  containing  an 
addition  sum.  Lady  to  open  envelope,  add  up  this 
sum  and  return  it  to  gentleman.  First  past  the  post 
with  correct  sum  wins. 

Needle  Threading  Competition — Lady  carries 
needle  and  thread  100  yards  to  gentleman  partner. 
He  threads  the  needle  and  returns  it  to  lady.  First 
past  the  post  with  needle  properly  threaded  wins. 

Egg  Carrying  Competition  for  Ladies — Each 
lady  carries  an  egg  in  an  ordinary  teaspoon  for  a 
distance  of  about  fifty  yards.  If  egg  is  dropped  it 
must  be  recovered  with  the  spoon  and  must  not  be 
touched  with  the  hands.  First  past  the  post  with 
unbroken  egg  wins. 

There  are  many  other  contests  which  tax  the  in 
tellect  in  a  similar  manner,  but  possibly  the  fore 
going  will  be  sufficient  to  provide  a  fairly  demoralis 
ing  afternoon.  Of  course,  in  America  it  is  impossible 
to  secure  the  real  Levantine  donkey.  In  Egypt  the 
donkey  takes  the  place  of  the  motor  car,  the  trolley, 
the  hansom,  and  the  bicycle.  In  size  he  ranges  from 
an  average  goat  to  a  full  grown  St.  Bernard, 

240 


THE    MOHAMMEDAN    FLY 

Ordinarily  he  is  headstrong  and  hard  to  manage, 
having  no  bridle  wisdom  whatever,  but  he  is  of  tough 
fibre  and  has  a  willing  nature,  and  behind  his  mourn 
ful  countenance  there  always  seems  to  be  lurking  a 
crafty  and  elusive  sense  of  humour.  The  names  are 
marvellous.  At  the  various  stops  on  our  way  up  the 
Nile  I  became  personally  acquainted  with  Rameses 
the  Great,  Rameses  Telegraph,  Rameses  Telephone, 
Jim  Corbett,  Whiskey  Straight,  Lovely  Sweet, 
Roosevelt,  Sleeping  Car,  Lydia  Pinkham,  and  others 
equally  appropriate  which  I  cannot  now  recall. 

As  I  have  indicated  above,  our  wanderings  have 
carried  us  as  far  as  Luxor.  Luxor  (the  ancient 
Thebes)  is  the  superlative  of  all  that  is  old  and 
amazing  in  Egypt  and  therefore  it  calls  for  at 
least  one  separate  chapter. 


241 


CHAPTER    XVII 

IN  AND  AROUND  LUXOR,  WITH  A  SIDE 
LIGHT    ON    RAMESES    THE    GREAT 

U  NTIL  we  arrived  at  Luxor  we  did  not  know  the 
total  meaning  of  the  word  "  old."  The  ruins,  which 
are  the  stock  in  trade  of  this  ancient  City  of  Thebes, 
date  so  far  back  into  the  dimness  of  Nowhere  that 
all  the  other  antiquities  of  earth  seem  as  fresh  and 
recent  as  a  morning  newspaper. 

"  Old  "  is  merely  a  relative  term,  after  all.  I  re 
member  in  my  native  town  we  small  boys  used  to 
gaze  in  reverent  awe  at  a  court  house  that  was 
actually  built  before  the  Civil  War.  We  would  look 
up  at  that  weather-beaten  frame  structure,  two 
stories  high,  with  a  square  bird  cage  on  top  of  it, 
and  to  us  it  had  all  the  historic  interest  of  a 
mediaeval  castle.  Later,  in  Chicago,  when  the  special 
writer  on  the  newspaper  ran  short  of  topics  he  would 
dish  up  an  illustrated  story  on  the  oldest  building  in 
town.  It  was  constructed  away  back  in  1833. 

When  a  man  from  the  West  goes  East  for  the  first 
time  and  sees  Independence  Hall  in  Philadelphia,  he 

242 


IN    AND    AROUND    LUXOR 

takes  off  his  hat  and  tries  to  grasp  the  overwhelm 
ing  fact  that  the  building  stood  there  even  in  the  far 
distant  Colonial  period.  When  he  travels  to  London 
and  walks  through  St.  Paul's  or  stands  in  the  Henry 
VII.  Chapel  at  Westminster  he  begins  to  get  a  new 
line  on  the  meaning  of  "  old."  Later  he  sees  the 
Forum  at  Rome  and  declares  to  himself : — "  At  last 
I  have  found  something  really  ancient." 

But  when  he  arrives  at  Luxor  and  rambles  among 
the  elephantine  ruins  and  sits  in  the  deep  cool  shade 
of  temples  that  had  been  standing  a  good  many  cen 
turies  before  anyone  thought  of  laying  out  the 
Forum  in  Rome  he  will  begin  to  understand  how 
everything  else  in  the  world  is  comparatively  hot 
from  the  griddle.  One  day  we  were  in  the  shop  of 
Mouhammed  Mouhassib,  in  Luxor,  and  the  old 
antiquarian  reached  under  the  counter  and  lugged 
out  a  mummy.  The  body  was  well  preserved,  and  the 
embalming  cloth  in  which  it  was  wrapped  and  cross- 
wrapped  still  retained  a  definite  texture. 

"  This  mummy  dates  back  beyond  any  of  the 
dynasties  of  which  we  have  a  record,"  said  the  dealer. 
"  There  were  no  inscriptions  on  the  mummy  case, 
because  when  this  gentleman  lived  it  was  not  the 
custom  to  inscribe  the  cocoon.  You  will  observe, 
however,  that  he  was  buried  in  a  sitting  posture,  and 

243 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

we  know  that  this  manner  of  burial  was  discontinued 
about  6000  B.  c." 

As  we  stood  there  gazing  into  the  calm  features 
of  the  unidentified  has-been  and  realised  that  he  had 
been  sitting  in  that  easy  attitude  for  eight  thousand 
years  waiting  for  us  to  come  along  and  be  presented 
to  him,  we  began  to  get  a  faint  inkling  of  what  the 
word  "  old  "  really  means. 

Goodness  knows  I  am  not  going  to  attempt  any 
detailed  description  of  the  stupendous  ruins  which 
make  Luxor  the  most  interesting  spot  in  Egypt. 
Anyone  who  is  going  to  describe  Luxor  needs  a  new 
box  of  adjectives  every  few  minutes,  and,  besides, 
to  repeat  over  and  over  again  that  the  columns  and 
cavernous  sanctuaries  at.  Karnak  are  "  gigantic," 
and  "  colossal,"  and  "  huge,"  and  so  on,  cannot 
bring  the  reader  to  any  actual  conception  of  the 
barbaric  massiveness  of  these  ancient  structures. 

The  rulers  who  built  the  main  temple  of  Karnak, 
a  section  at  a  time,  thought  they  were  not  doing 
themselves  credit  unless  they  piled  up  columns  about 
the  size  of  the  redwood  trees  in  California  and 
guarded  each  entrance  with  statues  as  big  as  the 
Goddess  of  Liberty  in  New  York  Harbour,  and  when 
they  made  a  wall  to  enclose  a  courtyard,  they  put 
up  something  to  resemble  a  mountain  range.  The 

244 


IN    AND    AROUND    LUXOR 

ordinary  150  pound  mortal  edging  his  way  through 
the  corridors  and  under  the  vast  shadows  of  these 
overwhelming  uplifts  of  masonry  feels  about  as  large 
and  as  important  as  a  gnat. 

Everywhere  about  these  temples  there  are  uni 
formed  guards  whose  duty  it  is  to  protect  the  re 
mains  against  the  vandal  and  the  relic  hunter.  The 
guard  follows  a  few  feet  behind  you  as  you  roam 
through  the  many  acres  of  toppling  ruin.  He  is 
afraid  that  you  will  steal  something.  Inasmuch  as 
the  smallest  fragment  of  one  of  these  huge  statues, 
or  obelisks,  would  weigh  probably  six  hundred  pounds, 
we  felt  that  he  was  not  justified  in  suspecting  us. 
But  he  followed  along  and  then,  when  we  were 
leaving,  he  calmly  came  forward  and  indicated  that 
he  was  ready  to  take  a  money  insult.  This  move  on 
his  part  was  most  characteristic  of  the  Egyptian 
attitude  toward  visitors  in  general.  Every  native  ex 
pects  to  get  something  out  of  a  traveller  for  the 
simple  reason  that  he  needs  the  money.  Suppose  that 
a  suspicious  character  should  arrive  in  an  American 
city  and  the  chief  of  police  sent  out  a  detective  to 
shadow  him  and  see  that  he  did  not  blow  open  any 
safes  or  crawl  into  any  second  stories.  The  detective, 
having  followed  the  suspect  all  day,  approaches  him 
at  nightfall  and  says,  "  Look  here ;  you  have  put 

245 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

me  to  a  lot  of  trouble.  I  have  been  on  my  feet  all 
day  watching  you  for  fear  that  you  were  going  to 
commit  a  burglary,  and  I  think  it  is  only  right  that 
you  should  pay  me  something." 

Every  time  we  visited  an  antiquity  these  guards 
tagged  at  our  heels,  watching  us  like  hawks,  and 
invariably  they  tried  to  hold  us  up  for  a  piece  of 
silver  before  we  departed.  There  is  a  Masonic 
understanding  among  the  natives  that  the  tourist 
is  to  be  fleeced.  For  instance,  although  the  copper 
coins  are  in  common  use  among  the  natives,  and  in 
the  cheaper  shops  the  prices  are  usually  reckoned 
in  milliemes,  it  is  almost  impossible  for  a  traveller 
to  get  any  of  these  copper  coins  because  the  natives 
want  him  to  bestow  his  gratuities  in  piastres.  A 
millieme  is  worth  one-half  cent,  and  then  the  mill- 
ieme  is  further  subdivided  into  fractional  coins,  some 
of  which  are  about  the  size  of  the  mustard  seed  and 
worth  about  as  much  as  a  share  of  mining  stock. 

Egyptian  money  is  very  easily  understood  by 
Americans.  The  piastre  is  the  same  as  our  five-cent 
piece  or  nickel.  The  silver  five  piastre  piece  resem 
bles  our  quarter  and  has  the  same  value.  The  ten 
piastre  piece  is  the  same  as  our  half-dollar.  The 
100  piastre  bill  is  worth  five  dollars.  Inasmuch  as 
many  of  the  prices  sound  large  and  important  when 

246 


IN    AND    AROUND    LUXOR 

quoted  in  piastres,  the  dealers  have  learned  to  de 
mand  English  pounds  sterling  or  American  dollars. 
That  is,  they  name  their  first  prices  in  sovereigns 
and  dollars  and  then  gradually  work  down  to  pias 
tres.  I  saw  a  native  trying  to  sell  a  scarab  to  a 
tourist.  His  first  price  was  £7,  equivalent  to  $35. 
After  a  half-hour  of  haggling  he  had  cut  it  to 
7  piastres,  or  35  cents,  and  the  deal  was  con 
summated. 

The  old  city  of  Thebes  was  a  huge  and  hustling 
metropolis,  surrounded  by  a  high  wall  of  a  hundred 
gates,  with  countless  regiments  of  soldiers  march 
ing  out  to  conquer  distant  lands  and  bring  back 
slaves  in  little  batches  of  80,000  or  so.  This  was 
along  about  2000  B.  c.  The  city  began  to  lose 
some  of  its  importance  a  few  centuries  before  the 
Christian  era  and  dwindled  in  size  until  twenty  years 
ago  it  was  a  mere  village  of  huts  nestling  in  the 
shade  of  the  great  temples.  Then  the  tourist  travel 
set  in  very  heavily,  and  to-day  Luxor  is  a  hustling 
city  with  large  hotels  and  fancy  shops  and  a  gen 
eral  air  of  prosperity.  The  magnificent  temple  of 
Luxor  is  in  the  very  heart  of  the  new  city.  The 
rambling  temple  of  Karnak  is  a  short  donkey  ride  to 
the  north,  and  across  the  river,  some  three  miles  to 
the  west,  there  are  more  temples  and  shattered  statues 

247 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

and  the  wonderful  tombs  of  the  kings.  In  olden  days 
there  was  a  broad  avenue  leading  north  to  Karnak 
and  thence  west  to  the  valley  in  the  desert,  where 
the  kings  were  buried,  and  this  boulevard  was 
guarded  on  either  side,  for  the  entire  distance,  by 
huge  recumbent  Sphinxes  carved  out  of  granite. 
Can  you  imagine  a  double  row  of  gigantic  figures 
crouched  on  each  side  of  the  street  and  about 
twenty  feet  apart  all  the  way  up  Broadway  to  Cen 
tral  Park  and  then  through  the  Park  to  Riverside 
Drive  and  up  the  drive  to  the  distant  suburbs?  If 
so,  you  will  understand  to  what  an  extent  these  old 
rulers  "  went  in  "  for  sphinxes.  Labour  cost  nothing 
and  time  did  not  count  for  anything  and  if  a  king 
wished  to  build  an  avenue  of  sphinxes  leading  to  his 
private  temple  or  tomb  all  he  had  to  do  was  to  give 
the  word. 

As  soon  as  a  king  mounted  the  throne  he  began 
making  his  funeral  preparations,  and  ordered  the 
entire  staff  of  stone  cutters  to  chisel  out  hieroglyphs 
explaining  that  he  was  great  and  good  and  just, 
and  that  he  never  took  off.  his  hat  to  anyone  except 
the  gods,  and  then  not  ordinary  picayune  gods,  but 
only  those  of  the  very  first  magnitude.  According 
to  the  hieroglyphs,  every  king  that  ruled  in  Egypt 
was  as  wise  as  Solomon,  as  brilliant  in  military 

248 


IN   AND   AROUND    LUXOR 


I 

o 
•S 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

strategy  as  Napoleon,  and  as  hard  on  the  evildoer 
as  our  own  beloved  T.  R. 

This  unanimous  outpouring  of  eulogy  is  largely 
explained  by  the  fact  that  every  memorial  in  honour 
of  a  ruler  was  erected  and  supervised  by  that  ruler 
himself.  It's  a  fact!  Of  all  the  countless  temples 
and  obelisks  and  godlike  granite  figures  and  festal 
tomb  chambers  remaining  in  Egypt  to  testify  to 
the  majesty  and  splendour  of  the  ancient  dynasties, 
every  one  was  built  under  the  personal  supervision 
of  the  man  who  gets  all  of  the  glory  out  of  the  in 
scriptions.  The  succeeding  generation  never  got  up 
subscription  lists  to  build  monuments  to  statesmen 
or  military  commanders.  The  dutiful  and  loving 
son  never  ordered  a  memorial  in  honour  of  his  illus 
trious  father.  He  was  too  busy  carving  his  own 
biography  on  the  sandstone  and  depicting  himself 
as  pursuing  the  enemy  or  taking  afternoon  tea  with 
haughty  three-headed  gods. 

In  old  Egypt  every  king  was  his  own  press  agent. 
These  rulers  could  have  written  some  great  "  per 
sonal  recollections  "  for  the  magazines,  because  they 
remembered  all  the  incidents  that  brought  them  to 
the  centre  of  the  stage  with  the  calcium  turned  on, 
and  wisely  forgot  all  details  calculated  to  injure 
their  standing  with  posterity. 

250 


IN    AND    AROUND    LUXOR 

You  take  Rameses  the  Great.  He  is  regarded  as 
perhaps  the  king  pin  of  all  the  rulers  during  Egypt's 
long  period  of  national  splendour.  Have  you  ever 
heard  anyone  say  a  word  in  criticism  of  Rameses' 
fiscal  policy,  his  treatment  of  the  rebate  system, 
management  of  the  Senate,  or  his  social  relations 
with  the  dark  emissaries  that  came  up  from  Nubia? 
No !  Everyone  has  a  good  word  for  Rameses.  The 
writers  of  ancient  history  extol  him,  and  the  guide 
books  print  his  name  in  big  black  letters,  and  the 
travellers  to  Egypt  gather  about  his  glass-covered 
coffin  in  the  Ghizeh  Museum  at  Cairo  and  try  to  trace 
noble  lineaments  in  the  shrunken  features.  They  sigh 
over  his  departure  and  look  down  at  him  mournfully, 
with  their  hats  in  their  hands,  as  if  they  had  lost 
him  this  spring,  instead  of  3164  years  ago  this 
spring.  They  say : — "  Well,  he  certainly  was  a 
grand  character  and  it's  too  bad  we  haven't  got 
some  rulers  of  his  calibre  nowadays." 

It  is  not  my  desire  to  attack  Rameses,  but  I  feel 
it  my  duty  to  submit  to  students  of  history  and 
archaeologists  a  very  interesting  papyrus,  which 
came  into  my  possession  at  Luxor.  If  this  docu 
ment  is  accepted  as  authentic  and  the  statements 
are  believed,  then  it  would  appear  that  Rameses  was 
the  champion  advertiser  of  ancient  times.  If  Ram- 

251 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 


252 


IN  AND  AROUND  LUXOR 

eses  were  alive  to-day  he  would  own  all  the  bill 
boards  in  America.  He  would  take  a  full  page  in 
every  Sunday  paper  and  have  his  picture  on  free 
calendars.  He  would  give  Lawson  cards  and  spades. 

In  all  accepted  records  discovered  up  to  this  time 
Rameses  has  received  nothing  but  praise.  Why? 
Because  all  the  records  were  doctored  by  Rameses 
himself.  He  was  the  great  builder  of  Egypt  and  all 
over  the  walls  of  every  building  that  he  erected  he 
had  his  picture  and  tales  of  his  mighty  achievements 
blazoned  forth  in  bright  colors  like  the  row  of  ban 
ners  in  front  of  a  side  show.  Wherever  in  Egypt  he 
could  find  a  large  smooth-faced  rock  he  would  engage 
a  member  of  the  Royal  Academy  to  sculp  something 
about  Rameses,  and  he  would  always  stand  and  look 
over  the  sculptor's  shoulder  to  make  sure  that  the 
king  didn't  get  the  worst  of  it.  If  the  army  of  Ram 
eses  suffered  a  defeat  at  the  hands  of  the  Hittites, 
did  any  mention  of  the  fact  find  its  way  into  the 
inscriptions?  Most  assuredly  not.  Rameses  had  the 
hieroglyphs  report  that  he  made  a  masterly  man 
oeuvre  in  order  to  develop  the  strength  of  the 
enemy  and  then  retired  to  a  new  and  more  strategic 
position. 

We  cannot  discover  from  the  old  inscrip 
tions  that  any  Egyptian  army  ever  suffered  defeat, 

253 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

and  yet  it  has  been  learned  from  other  sources  that 
now  and  then  an  invading  army  had  the  whole  native 
population  running  foot  races  up  and  down  the  Nile. 


To  make  sure  the  King  didn't  get  the  worst  of  It 

However,  it  was  not  considered  good  form  for  his 
torians  to  mention  these  painful  incidents.  The  rate 
of  mortality  among  those  who  criticised  the  admin 
istration  was  exactly  100  per  cent.  It  is  because  all 

254 


IN  AND  AROUND  LUXOR 

of  the  familiar  records  are  known  to  have  been  under 
censorship  that  the  papyrus  discovered  by  me  at 
Luxor  possesses  a  most  startling  interest. 

As  a  cold  matter  of  fact,  I  discovered  this  manu 
script  by  proxy.  That  is,  I  bought  it  from  the  man 
who  said  he  had  found  it  concealed  in  the  funeral 
vestments  of  a  mummy  uprooted  near  Thebes  in  the 
month  of  February.  I  cannot  give  the  name  of  this 
Egyptian  for  the  reason  that  all  valuable  antiquities 
discovered  in  Egypt  are  supposed  to  belong  to  the 
government,  and  anyone  concealing  an  art  treasure 
or  some  document  of  rare  value  may  be  severely  pun 
ished.  I  can  say  this  much,  however — the  native  from 
whom  I  bought  the  papyrus  assured  me  that  he  was 
an  honourable  and  truthful  guide,  and  he  gave  me  his 
personal  guarantee  that  he  had  removed  the  docu 
ment  from  the  mummy's  undergarment  with  his  own 
hands  and  had  been  waiting  an  opportunity  to 
offer  it  to  a  traveller  who  was  really  a  connoisseur 
of  antiquities  and  a  reverent  student  of  ancient  lan 
guages.  All  this  he  told  me  while  we  were  out  on  the 
desert  together,  and  after  looking  apprehensively  in 
all  directions  to  make  sure  that  no  human  being  was 
within  three  miles  of  us,  he  pulled  a  tin  cylinder  from 
under  his  robe  and  carefully  removed  from  it  the 
time-stained  but  still  intact  roll  of  papyrus.  I  must 

255 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

say  that  I  never  saw  a  more  convincing  document. 
The  hieroglyphs  looked  as  Egyptian  as  anything 
could  be,  and  as  soon  as  I  saw  them  I  had  a  burn 
ing  curiosity  to  know  what  message  to  future  genera 
tions  this  poor  mummy  had  been  hugging  in  his 
bosom  through  all  these  centuries.  I  asked  regarding 
the  mummy  on  which  the  papyrus  had  been  found 
and  learned  that  the  inscription  on  his  outer  coffin 
indicated  that  he  had  been  an  officer  assigned  to  the 
royal  palace  of  Rameses  II.,  the  type  of  courtier 
who  must  bend  the  supple  knee  and  wear  the  smiling 
face,  at  all  times  concealing  his  real  opinion  of  things 
in  general. 

The  guarantee  which  accompanied  the  papyrus 
was  so  heartfelt  and  altogether  emphatic  that  I 
made  the  purchase.  The  price  was  large,  but  I  felt 
justified  in  paying  it,  for  the  native  assured  me  that 
I  could  sell  it  to  the  British  Museum  at  any  time  for 
twice  as  much.  I  promised  faithfully  that  I  would 
never  mention  his  name  in  connection  with  the  deal, 
and  this  promise  was  easily  kept,  because  he  had  a 
name  that  no  one  could  have  remembered  for  two 
minutes. 

For  obvious  reasons  I  did  not  show  the  document 
to  my  travelling  companions.  I  knew  that  if  people 
heard  of  my  discovery  and  got  to  talking  about  it 

256 


IN    AND    AROUND    LUXOR 

I  might  not  be  permitted  to  take  it  out  of  the  coun 
try.   When  we  arrived  at  Cairo  I  went  to  Mr.  Ralph 


original  papyrus 

Blanchard,   an  American  who   is  noted  as   an  anti 
quarian,   Egyptologist,   and   mummy   collector,   and 

257 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

after  a  few  cautious  preliminaries  told  him  that  I 
had  a  document  in  hieroglyphics  of  which  I  desired 
a  translation.  I  begged  him  not  to  inquire  where  or 
how  I  had  obtained  the  papyrus.  All  I  wanted  him  to 
do  was  to  tell  me  what  the  fool  thing  meant. 

Blanchard  was  startled  as  soon  as  he  looked  at 
the  document.  I  could  see  that.  He  said  he  had  de 
ciphered  a  good  many  acres  of  hieroglyphics,  but 
this  record  was  unique  and  the  most  interesting  that 
had  ever  come  under  his  observation.  He  spent  two 
days  on  the  translation,  so  as  to  be  absolutely  accu 
rate  regarding  every  fine  point  and  get  not  only  the 
cold  words  but  also  the  literary  style  and  the  real 
spirit  of  the  original  communication. 

Let  the  translation  speak  for  itself.  I  must  con 
fess  that  when  it  was  completed  I  was  overwhelmed. 
Not  only  had  a  flood  of  light  been  let  in  upon  a  most 
important  epoch,  but  there  were  also  surprising  rev 
elations  as  to  the  origin  of  valued  words  and  phrases. 
Here  is  the  translation : — 

Rameses  Second  is  a  Smooth  Citizen.  His  Foxy 
Scheme  is  to  bunko  Posterity.  His  Soldiers  go  out 
and  put  up  a  hard  Scrap  and  do  up  the  enemy  and  he 
hires  a  Stonecutter  to  give  an  Account  of  it  on  a 
Granite  Rock  and  hand  all  the  Bouquets  to  Rameses. 
He  is  building  many  Temples.  The  Architects  draw 

258 


IN    AND    AROUND    LUXOR 

the  Plans.  The  Labourers  do  the  Work.  The  Public 
foots  the  Bill.  Rameses  and  the  Local  Deities  are  the 
only  ones  who  butt  into  the  Inscriptions.  He  has  the 
future  doped  out  as  follows:  —  Three  thousand  years 


MC&CS  -SECOMO    IS    A    SMOOTH   ClTllEH     *l£  FOXY  SCHEM*   IS   TO   BUNKO     POST6RITY. 

sia!3  —  &*!**-•  !>•  A'Syo  RA/H 

<«          SOLDIERS        CO  OUT     AND     PUT   UP    AHAK.D     SCRAP     ANfcjDO  OP  TMf  tHEMY, 

#;^      ?-S^  ---  :S£-.&.S*.P,~ 

N»          HE       HIRES       A         STONE      CuTTCR.         TO     GIVE    AN       ACCOUNT        OF     IT 


OH      A     CRANITC     R'OCK     AMD    MANfr    ALL    TH8     BOuauST5      TO     R  AMESES.      HE    I* 

-  Hi—  HI         A         %£   $%  oft*    ^ 

BUILDING      MANV       TEMPLES.         THE   ARCHITECTS      DRAW  THE   PLANS.     THE    LABORERS 

W  w  is-    3t?_v~rus&-9tfe 

00      THE     WORK.  THE      PuftUC     fOOTS    THE    BILL.        ftAMESES    AND     T.HS     DemiS 


RB   THE    ONLY    ONES 


WHO      BOTT      INTO    .  TH6     •NSCRI»TION«.      HE    HAS 


_ 

THE      FUTURE    DOPED   OUT   AS    FOLLOWS;         THKEE   THOUSAND    YEARS  f  (ton  wow 

$  /ft^^t-a-*  -        illap^fJ  = 

COOK*   TOUR.ST5     SE6     MY     PICTURE*    AUC  OVCft    THB     6HOP«-.   TH6Y  W.LL 


CONCLUDE       THAT       I     M  U6T         HAVE       BEEN     THE     R.EAU.     WORK&  AN»» 


THEY     WILL       CALL,          MB          RAMCSES       THE!      GREAT 


Translation  of  the  Rameses  papyrus 
from  now,  when  Cook's  Tourists  see  my  Pictures  all 
over  the  Shop,  they  will  conclude  that  I  must  have 
been  the  real  Works  and  they  will  call  me  Rameses 
the  Great. 

259 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

This  revelation  in  regard  to  the  self-advertising 
proclivities  of  the  great  monarch,  coming,  as  it  did, 
from  one  who  had  been  intimately  associated  with 
him,  was  so  vastly  important  that  Mr.  Blanchard 
thought  it  better  to  verify  the  translation.  He  took 
a  copy  of  the  document  to  several  eminent  Egyptol 
ogists,  and  they  agreed  with  him  on  every  point. 
They  said  there  was  no  getting  away  from  "  scraps  " 
and  "  butt  in  "  and  "  dope  out  "  and  other  charac 
ters  which  seemed  to  me  to  have  somewhat  of  a 
modern  flavour. 

After  a  man  has  been  universally,  respected  for 
nearly  three  thousand  two  hundred  years  it  does 
seem  a  low  down  trick  to  show  him  up.  And,  pos 
sibly,  the  anonymous  writer  was  prejudiced  because 
he  had  failed  to  secure  an  appointment.  Did  the 
papyrus  really  come  from  the  bosom  of  the  mummy? 
Who  knows?  Sometimes  it  is  the  duty  of  the  trav 
eller  to  record  facts  as  they  come  under  his  observa 
tion  and  not  to  draw  hasty  conclusions. 

The  documentary  evidence  is  submitted  herewith 
— first  a  copy  of  the  original  papyrus  and  then  the 
translation,  word  for  word  and  phrase  by  phrase. 
The  testimony  should  convince  any  who  are  disposed 
to  be  sceptical.  My  only  hope  is  that  it  will  not 
entirely  blast  the  reputation  of  Rameses. 

260 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

THE   ORDINARY   HUMAN   FAILINGS   OF   THE 
ANCIENT    MOGULS 

1  AKEN  by  themselves,  as  mere  mouldering  chunks 
of  antiquity  that  have  been  preserved  to  us  because 
they  happened  to  be  dropped  down  in  a  dry  climate, 
the  fragmentary  remains  of  old  Egypt  are  not  very 
inspiring.  They  were  big,  but  seldom  beautiful.  As 
records  proving  that  humanity — old-fashioned,  un 
reliable  humanity,  with  its  fears,  jealousies,  hatreds, 
and  aching  ambitions — is  just  about  the  same  as  it 
was  five  thousand  years  ago,  the  temples  and  the 
decorated  tombs  seem  to  bring  us  direct  and  heart 
felt  messages  from  our  brethren  of  the  long  ago. 

For  instance,  from  the  beginning  of  time  prob 
ably  the  most  maddening  and  unbearable  persecution 
that  can  be  visited  upon  a  sensitive  human  being  is 
to  have  some  other  human  being  always  held  up 
before  him  as  a  shining  moral  example. 

Do  you  recall,  O  male  reader,  how  you  writhed  in 
humiliation  and  laid  plans  for  assault  and  battery 
when  the  good  little  Rollo  of  your  native  town  was 

261 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

constantly  dangled  before  your  depraved  soul  as  the 
paragon  of  juvenile  virtues?  "  Hollo  never  smokes 
corn  silk."  "  Hollo  never  puts  tick-tacks  on  teacher's 
bedroom  window."  "  Hollo  never  carries  craw  dab- 


The  paragon  of  juvenile  virtues 

bers  in  his  Sunday  clothes."  "  Rollo  never  runs  away 
to  go  swimming  and  then  comes  back  with  his  ears 
full  of  gravel." 

No,  indeed,  Rollo  never  showed  any  of  the  traits 
262 


FAILINGS    OF    ANCIENT    MOGULS 

that  have  been  the  essence  of  boyhood  since  Adam 
and  Eve  started  the  original  brood.  And  do  you  re 
member  how  bright  and  sunshiny  that  day  seemed 
when  Rollo,  having  grown  to  pale  and  sidewhiskered 
manhood,  was  arrested  for  stealing  money  from 
the  Building  and  Loan  Association? 

Take  the  story  of  Queen  Hatasoo.  She  was  the 
Victoria  of  the  eighteenth  dynasty,  and  was  on  the 
throne  just  about  1500  B.  c.  The  lineal  male  de 
scendant  of  that  period  had  a  blot  on  the  'scutcheon 
or  a  bar  sinister  across  his  pedigree  or  something 
wrong  with  his  registry  certificate — anyway,  he 
could  not  qualify  as  king,  and  so  his  sister  Hatasoo 
was  made  ruler  and  he  was  permitted  to  hang  around 
the  palace  as  a  kind  of  shawl  holder  and  cab  opener. 
He  led  the  cotillons  and  attended  public  dinners  and 
wore  decorations,  but  Hatasoo  ran  Egypt  and  Thut- 
mes  Second  was  merely  a  trailer.  When  he  dropped 
off  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  considerable  vacancy 
in  court  circles.  Queen  Hatasoo  continued  as  chief 
monarch,  although  her  step-nephew,  Thutmes  Third, 
carried  the  honourary  title  of  co-regent.  Hatasoo 
was  energetic  and  ambitious.  She  put  nephew  into 
a  remote  back  seat  and  ran  things  to  suit  herself, 
waging  wars,  building  temples,  and  organising  expe 
ditions  to  far  distant  lands.  Also,  according  to  an- 

263 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

cient  custom,  she  had  her  portrait  and  the  record  of 
her  accomplishments  carved  on  the  obelisks  and 
painted  all  over  the  walls  of  her  private  temple, 
which  is  still  standing,  about  three  miles  west  of  the 
present  city  of  Luxor. 

She  reigned  for  thirty-five  years,  and  then  Thut- 
mes  Third,  gray  bearded  and  worn  with  much  wait 
ing,  emerged  from  the  nursery  and  took  up  the  reins 
of  government.  According  to  the  judgment  of  later 
historians,  his  reign  was  about  the  most  glorious  in 
the  whole  history  of  Egypt.  He  was  possessed  of 
military  genius,  and  under  his  direction  Syria  was 
recaptured,  and  the  influence  of  Egypt  was  firmly 
established  in  Western  Asia.  But  no  matter  how 
many  battles  he  won  or  how  many  captives  he  brought 
back  to  Thebes  to  exhibit  in  the  courthouse  square, 
the  old-timers  around  the  court  wagged  their  heads 
and  said,  "  Yes,  he's  doing  fairly  well  for  a  begin 
ner,  but  he'll  never  come  up  to  the  mark  set  by  his 
Aunt  Hattie."  •  Hatasoo  was  her  full  name,  but 
those  who  had  known  her  for  a  long  time  called  her 
"  Hattie,"  and  to  a  few  of  her  intimates  she  was 
known  as  "  Hat." 

Thutmes  was  merely  human.  For  years  his  dom 
ineering  aunt  had  kept  him  out  of  the  running,  and 
now  that  he  was  on  the  throne  the  glory  of  her 

264 


FAILINGS    OF    ANCIENT    MOGULS 

achievements  was  constantly  being  dinged  into  him. 
Every  time  he  rode  out  in  his  chariot,  standing  up 
and  sawing  away  at  four  horses,  just  as  they  do 


"  He'll  never  come  up  to  the  mark  set  by  his  aunt 
Hattie  " 

in  Ringling's  circus  at  the  present  time,  he  saw  her 
name  and  picture  on  all  the  public  buildings,  and,  of 
course,  two  or  three  years  after  her  departure,  every 
body  bragged  about  her  a  good  deal  harder  than 
they  had  while  she  was  alive.  Even  the  English  news- 

265 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

papers  speak  in  kindly  terms  of  an  American  states 
man  who  is  safely  deceased. 

Thutmes  stood  it  as  long  as  he  could,  and  then  he 
broke  over.  He  ordered  the  stonecutters  to  go  forth 
and  gouge  out  all  the  inscriptions  relating  to  his 
superior  aunt.  The  temple  which  she  had  built  as  a 
special  memorial  he  appropriated  to  himself,  and 
put  his  name  over  the  main  entrance.  It  may  have 
been  pretty  spiteful,  but  the  whole  proceeding  some 
how  seems  to  establish  a  sympathetic  link  between 
those  remote  heathen  days  and  the  unselfish  Utopian 
civilisation  that  we  now  enjoy  in  Chicago,  Omaha, 
West  Superior,  and  other  centres  of  brotherly  love. 

After  Thutmes  had  put  in  years  erasing  and  chis 
elling  out  all  complimentary  references  to  Hata- 
soo,  he  passed  away  and  was  carried  to  a  winding 
subterranean  tomb  in  the  valley  to  the  west.  For 
two  hundred  years  the  great  monuments  which  he  had 
erected  in  his  own  honour,  or  quietly  borrowed  from 
his  aunt,  remained  intact.  Then  along  came  Rameses 
Second,  to  whom  we  have  already  referred  as  the  best 
little  advertiser  of  ancient  times.  He  had  the  name 
of  Thutmes  removed  from  all  the  temples,  obelisks, 
and  public  buildings,  and  put  his  own  glaring  label 
on  everything  in  sight.  In  the  language  of  Mr. 
Peasley,  the  Kings  seemed  to  spend  most  of  their 

266 


FAILINGS    OF    ANCIENT    MOGULS 

time  in  "  knocking  their  predecessors  "  and  "  boost 
ing  "  themselves. 

Nearly  every  ancient  structure  has  been  defaced 


or  altered  to  gratify   a  private  jealousy  or   some 
prejudice  founded  on  religious  belief.  The  Romans 

267 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

tried  to  obliterate  the  old  Egyptian  deities.  The 
early  Christians  hacked  away  at  anything  that  failed 
to  strike  them  as  being  orthodox.  Then  the  Turks 
capped  the  climax  by  coming  in  and  burning  every 
thing  non-Mohammedan  that  was  at  all  combustible. 
A  few  ancient  records  remain  because  they  are 
carved  in  huge  characters  on  very  hard  stone.  The 
theologians  wanted  to  batter  them  down,  but  it 
would  have  meant  a  lot  of  hard  work  and  they  had 
been  leading  sedentary  lives.  So  they  merely  criss 
crossed  them  and  wrote  the  equivalent  for  "  Rats  " 
underneath,  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

Even  the  modern  circus  bill  is  not  more  exuberant 
and  given  to  joyful  hyperbole  than  the  inscriptions 
and  paintings  of  the  Egyptian  temples.  A  few  of 
them  are  reproduced  herewith.  Take  No.  1,  for  ex 
ample.  This  represents  our  old  friend  Rameses 
the  Great  in  the  act  of  overcoming  his  enemies.  It 
was  designed  by  Rameses  himself.  Now  we  know 
where  Kaiser  Wilhelm  got  all  of  his  tips. 

Some  warriors  are  content  with  overcoming  one 
man  at  a  time,  but  Rameses  is  seen  holding  ten  of 
them  by  the  hair,  getting  ready  to  clout  them  into 
insensibility.  The  picture  is  an  artistic  success,  but 
is  somewhat  shy  anatomically.  The  ten  enemies  have 
a  total  of  only  three  legs  for  the  whole  crowd.  They 

268 


FAILINGS    OF    ANCIENT    MOGULS 

are  better  supplied  with  arms,  the  total  being  thir 
teen,  or  about  one  and  one-third  to  the  man.  Notice 
also  the  relative  size  of  Rameses  and  his  foes.  There 


Where  Kaiser  Wilhelm  got  all  his  tips 

we  have  the  real,  unchanging  spirit  of  autobiog 
raphy — the  great  I  triumphant  and  the  petty  antag 
onists  all  coming  about  knee  high  to  him. 

No.  2  is  also  very  characteristic.  One  of  the  kings 
is  represented  as  defeating  two  burly  warriors.  He 
is  walking  on  one  and  pushing  his  spear  through  the 
other.  Undoubtedly  a  glorious  achievement.  It  would 

269 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

be  still  more  glorious  if  the  two  gentlemen  putting 
up  the  fight  against  the  King  had  carried  weapons 
of  some  sort.  The  one  on  the  ground,  who  is  lifting 
his  hands  in  mild  protest  against  being  used  as  a 
rug,  has  nothing  on  his  person  to  indicate  that  he  is 
a  soldier.  The  one  who  is  being  harpooned  carries  in 
his  left  hand  what  appears  to  be  a  box  of  handker 
chiefs.  The  raised  right  arm  would  suggest  that 
he  attempted  to  slap  the  King,  who  caught  him  by 
the  arm  and  held  him  until  he  could  select  a  good 
vital  spot  in  which  to  prong  him.  Attention  is  called 
to  the  fact  that  both  of  the  victims  wear  the  long 
and  protuberant  chin  whisker,  which  would  indicate 
that  the  honest  farmer  was  getting  the  worst  of  it 
even  four  thousand  years  ago. 

The  carvings  and  paintings  which  do  not  depict 
warlike  scenes  usually  show  the  monarchs  receiving 
homage  from  terrified  subjects  or  else  mingling  on 
terms  of  equality  with  the  principal  deities  of  the 
period.  Illustration  No.  3  is  a  very  good  specimen. 
King  Amenophis  and  his  wife  are  seen  seated  on 
their  square-built  Roycroft  thrones,  while  two  head 
priests  of  Ammon  burn  incense  before  them  and  sing 
their  praises  and  tell  them  that  the  people  are  with 
the  administration,  no  matter  how  the  Senate  may 
carry  on.  There  was  no  race  prejudice  in  those  days. 

270 


FAILINGS    OF    ANCIENT    MOGULS 

The  Queen  is  shown  to  be  a  coal-black  Nubian.  In 
one  hand  she  carries  what  seems  to  be  a  fly  brush  of 
the  very  kind  that  we  used  all  the  time  we  were  up 
the  Nile,  and  if  the  article  in  her  other  hand  is  not 
a  cocktail  glass  then  the  artist  has  wilfully  libelled 
her. 

No.  4  is  interesting  as  a  fashion  plate.  Ptolemeus 
and  Cleopatra  are  making  offers  to  the  hawk-headed 
god  and  the  goddess  Hathor.  This  picture  will  ap 
peal  to  women  inasmuch  as  it  gives  us  a  correct  like 
ness  of  Cleopatra,  the  man  trapper.  No  one  can 
dispute  the  fact  that  she  is  beautiful,  but  how  about 
the  combination  of  an  Empress  gown  with  a  habit 
back?  Is  it  not  a  trifle  daring?  And  the  hat.  Would 
you  call  it  altogether  subdued? 

Another  well-preserved  painting  to  be  found  in  the 
temple  at  Edfou  reveals  the  innate  modesty  of  the 
Ptolemies.  The  King  (No.  5)  is  represented  as  being 
crowned  by  the  goddesses  of  the  south  and  the  north 
— that  is,  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt.  These  divin 
ities  seem  to  be  overcome  with  admiration  of  the 
athletic  monarch.  One  has  her  hand  resting  on  his 
shoulder,  as  if  she  hated  to  see  him  go.  The  other, 
having  just  fitted  him  with  his  new  gourd-shaped 
hat,  has  both  hands  in  the  air,  and  you  can  almost 
hear  her  say,  "  Oh,  my !  It  looks  just  fine ! " 

271 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Seti  I.  was  another  shrinking  violet.  In  one  of  his 
private  three-sheet  advertisements  (No.  6)  he  has  the 
sublime  effrontery  to  represent  the  great  goddess 
Hathor  as  holding  his  hand  tenderly  and  offering  him 
the  jewelled  collar  which  she  is  wearing.  Notice  the 
uplifted  hand.  He  is  supposed  to  be  saying,  "  This 
is  all  very  sudden,  and  besides,  would  it  be  proper 
for  me  to  accept  jewelry  from  one  of  your  sex?" 
Of  course,  there  never  was  any  Hathor,  and  if  there 
had  been  she  wouldn't  have  hob-nobbed  with  a  man 
who  had  his  private  interviews  done  into  oil  paintings. 
But  this  painting  and  one  thousand  others  that  we 
have  seen  in  Egypt  help  to  give  us  a  line  on  the  an 
cient  Kings.  If  there  was  any  one  of  them  that  failed 
to  get  the  swelled  head  soon  after  mounting  the 
throne,  the  hieroglyphs  are  strangely  silent  regard 
ing  his  case.  They  were  a  vain,  self-laudatory  lot, 
and  all  of  them  had  that  craving  for  the  centre  of 
the  stage  and  the  hot  glare  of  the  spot-light  which 
is  still  to  be  found  in  isolated  cases. 

After  all  is  said  and  done  can  we  blame  them? 
Rameses  wanted  to  be  remembered  and  talked  about 
and  he  laid  his  plans  accordingly.  He  carved  the 
record  of  his  long  and  successful  reign  on  the  un 
yielding  granite  and  distributed  his  pictures  with  the 
careful  prodigality  of  a  footlight  favourite.  What 

272 


FAILINGS    OF    ANCIENT    MOGULS 

has  been  the  result?  His  name  is  a  household  joke  all 
over  the  world.  People  who  never  heard  of  Professor 
Harry  Thurston  Peck  or  Marie  Corelli  or  the  present 
Khedive  of  Egypt  know  all  about  Rameses  the  Great, 
although  no  two  of  them  pronounce  it  the  same. 


273 


CHAPTER    XIX 

ROYAL   TOMBS   AND   OTHER   PLACES   OF 
AMUSEMENT 

ONE  morning  we  rode  across  the  Nile  from  Luxor 
in  a  broad  and  buxom  sailboat,  climbed  on  our  don 
keys,  and  rode  to  the  west.  We  followed  the  narrow 
road  through  the  fresh  fields  of  wheat  and  alfalfa 
until  we  struck  the  desert,  and  then  we  took  to  a 
dusty  trail  which  leads  to  a  winding  valley,  where 
the  kings  of  the  eighteenth,  nineteenth,  and  twen 
tieth  dynasties  are  being  dug  up. 

This  narrow  valley,  with  the  steep  hills  rising  on 
either  side,  is  the  sure-enough  utterness  of  desolation ; 
not  a  tree,  not  a  shrub,  not  a  blade  of  grass,  not  even 
a  stingy  little  cactus.  No  wonder  the  old  kings 
picked  out  this  valley  for  a  cemetery.  Life  has  no 
charm  in  this  dreary  region.  Eternal  sleep  would 
seem  to  offer  peculiar  advantages.  After  winding 
through  the  sun-baked  gravel  for  about  a  mile  we 
came  to  a  settlement  of  houses  and  a  high  fence 

274 


ROYAL    TOMBS    AND    OTHER    PLACES 
thrown  across  the  roadway.  Also  there  was  an  elec 
tric  light  plant  buzzing  away  merrily.  The  tombs 
of  the  kings  are  now  strung  with  incandescent  lights. 
Can  you  beat  that  for  sacrilegious  enterprise? 

There  are  forty-one  of  these  royal  tombs  that 
have  been  discovered  and  opened  to  date.  The  less 
important  are  not  lighted,  and  are  mere  tunnels 
leading  back  to  one  or  two  bare  chambers.  Those 
really  worth  visiting  are  dug  far  back  into  the  hills. 
The  halls  are  spacious  and  brilliantly  decorated,  and 
before  you  get  through  exploring  one  of  them  you 
think  that  you  are  pretty  well  down  toward  the  cen 
tre  of  the  earth. 

Mr.  Peasley  had  read  up  on  the  Tomb  of  Amenho- 
tep  Third  and  when  we  entered  it  he  pushed  the  reg 
ular  guide  out  of  the  way  and  gave  us  one  of  his 
own  vivid  lectures.  The  native  guide  lacks  imagina 
tion.  His  idea  of  showing  the  traveller  a  f  rolicksome 
time  is  to  point  out  a  lot  of  paintings  in  which  the 
deceased  is  seen  travelling  across  the  Nile  in  a 
funeral  barge.  Mr.  Peasley,  on  the  other  hand,  gave 
us  an  insight  into  the  character  of  the  wily  Amen- 
hotep. 

"  Now,  look  at  the  entrance  to  this  tomb,"  he  said, 
as  we  started  down  the  new  wooden  steps.  "  It  looks 
as  if  someone  had  been  blasting  for  limestone.  The 

275 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 


walls  are  rough  and  unfinished.  Old  Amenhotep  fig 
ured  that  if  anyone  ever  came  across  the  opening  to 
the  tomb  he  would  size  up  this  ordinary  hole  in  the 
ground  and  conclude  that  it  was  either  a  cave  used 


"  Now  look  at  the  entrance  to  this  tomb"  he  said 

as  a  storehouse  or  the  last  resting  place  of  some 
cheap  two-dollar  official." 

After  descending  some  twenty  feet  we  came  to  a 
small  chamber  which  was  rudely  frescoed  about  half 
of  the  way  around. 

"  Do  you  know  why  he  left  this  job  unfinished?  " 
276 


ROYAL  TOMBS  AND  OTHER  PLACES 
asked  Mr.  Peasley.  "  He  knew  that  some  day  or  other 
an  inquisitive  foreigner  would  be  prowling  around 
here  trying  to  uncover  ancient  treasures,  and  he  put 
this  measly  little  antechamber  here  to  throw  Mr. 
Archaeologist  off  the  scent.  He  wanted  it  to  appear 
that  the  man  who  was  buried  here  had  been  so  poor 
that  he  couldn't  complete  the  decorations.  And  now 
I'll  show  you  something  more  foxy  still.  Come  with 
me  down  this  long  flight  of  steps  to  the  second 
chamber." 

He  led  us  down  another  flight  to  a  tall  chamber 
about  the  size  of  a  freight  car  stood  on  end. 

"  When  the  French  explorers  opened  this  place  in 
1898  the  chamber  which  you  are  now  inspecting 
seemed  to  be  the  end  of  the  tunnel*"  continued  Mr. 
Peasley.  "  The  four  side  walls  were  perfectly  smooth 
and  unbroken,  but  down  at  the  bottom  they  found  a 
pit  which  had  been  filled  with  heavy  stones.  They 
supposed,  of  course,  that  this  was  the  mummy  pit, 
and  that  if  they  removed  the  stones  they  would  find 
some  royal  remains  at  the  other  end  of  the  hole. 
So  they  worked  day  after  day,  lifting  out  the  boul 
ders,  and  finally  they  came  to  the  end  of  the  pit  and 
found  that  they  had  drawn  a  blank.  Naturally  they 
were  stumped.  They  thought  they  had  been  explor 
ing  a  tomb,  but  it  was  only  an  April  fool  joke.  One 

277 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

of  the  professors  was  not  satisfied.  He  felt  sure  that 
there  must  be  a  royal  mummy  tucked  in  somewhere 
about  the  premises,  so  he  took  a  ladder  and  climbed 
around  and  began  tapping  all  over  the  walls  of  this 
second  chamber.  What  do  you  think?  He  discovered 
that  the  wall  had  a  hollow  sound  just  opposite  the 
tunnel  at  which  they  had  entered.  So  he  used  a  bat 
tering  ram  and  broke  through  into  the  real  tomb. 
Yes,  sir ;  these  two  outer  chambers,  with  their  cheap 
stencil  frescoes  and  fake  mummy  pit,  had  been  a 
blind." 

We  passed  over  a  narrow  wooden  bridge  and  en 
tered  the  tunnel  beyond  the  second  chamber.  The 
whole  place  was  brightly  illuminated  and  one  could 
readily  believe  that  he  was  in  a  modern  hallway 
decorated  in  the  most  gorgeous  Egyptian  style. 
The  bordering  frescoes  and  the  historical  paintings 
were  as  fresh  in  tone  as  if  they  had  been  put  on 
only  yesterday.  One  of  the  larger  chambers  looked 
exactly  like  the  gaudy  u  Oriental  apartment "  of  a 
Paris  or  New  York  hotel,  and  we  shouldn't  have  been 
surprised  or  displeased  to  see  a  waiter  come  in  with 
a  tray  full  of  cool  drinks. 

At  last  we  came  to  the  tomb  chamber,  and  there  in 
a  deep  hollow,  with  a  modern  wooden  railing  around 
it,  reclined  the  great  King  Amenhotep,  with  the  in- 

278 


ROYAL  TOMBS  AND  OTHER  PLACES 
candescent  lamps  dangling  above  him  and  flooding 
him  in  a  radiant  light.  The  original  granite  cover 
of  the  outer  case  has  been  removed  and  plate  glass 
substituted.  We  leaned  on  the  rail  and  gazed  down 
at  the  serene  countenance  of  the  once  mighty  mon 
arch  who  had  been  lying  there  for  3300  years.  The 
funeral  garlands  which  had  been  laid  on  his  breast 
were  still  undisturbed,  and  the  shrunken  face  was 
illumined  by  that  calm  smile  of  triumph  which  Amen- 
hotep  wore  when  he  passed  away  confident  in  the 
belief  that  the  Nile  tourist  would  never  discover  his 
hiding  place. 

We  visited  the  tomb  in  company  with  a  bustling 
swarm  of  American  excursionists  of  the  happy,  ir 
reverent  kind.  The  fact  that  they  were  strolling 
about  in  a  private  and  highly  aristocratic  sarcopha 
gus  did  not  seem  to  repress  their  natural  gush  of 
spirits  or  induce  any  solemn  reflections.  They  were 
all  steaming  hot,  but  very  happy  and  having  a  lot 
of  fun  with  the  King.  One  enterprising  Yankee,  who 
carried  his  coat  and  vest  on  his  arm,  started  to  climb 
over  the  wooden  railing  in  order  to  make  a  close  in 
spection  of  the  mortuary  remains,  but  was  restrained 
by  the  guards. 

After  leaving  the  valley  of  tombs  we  made  a  short 
cut  over  a  very  hot  and  a  very  high  hill  to  the  "  rest 

279 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

house  "  which  has  been  erected  far  out  on  the  desert 
by  one  of  the  tourist  agencies.  We  collapsed  on  the 
shady  side  of  the  building,  dusty  and  short  of  breath, 
and  immediately  we  were  attacked  by  a  most  vocif 
erous  horde  of  native  peddlers.  And  what  do  you 
suppose  they  were  selling?  We  landed  there  on  Fri 
day,  and  the  remnant  sale  of  mummies  was  in  full 
blast.  Here  are  some  of  the  cut  prices: — 

Head  of  adult 4  shillings. 

Foot   of  adult    1  shilling. 

Hand  of  adult   1  shilling. 

Two   feet   and   two  hands    (warranted 

mates)     3  shillings. 

Arm  and  head   6  shillings. 

Special  reduction  for  juvenile  sizes. 

Can  you  imagine  anything  more  disquieting  to  the 
nerves,  when  you  are  resting  and  getting  ready  for 
luncheon,  than  to  have  a  villainous  child  of  the  des 
ert  rush  up  and  lay  a  petrified  human  head  in  your 
lap  and  beg  you  to  make  an  offer?  Within  two  min 
utes  after  we  arrived  we  had  fragments  of  former 
humanity  stacked  all  around  us.  And  they  were  un 
mistakably  genuine.  The  native  swindlers  can  make 
imitation  scarabs  and  potteries,  or  else  import  them 

280 


ROYAL  TOMBS  AND  OTHER  PLACES 

by  the  gross  from  Germany  and  Connecticut,  but  the 
mummy  heads  which  they  offer  for  sale  are  horribly 
bona  fide.  It  would  not  pay  to  manufacture  an  imi 
tation  article,  inasmuch  as  the  whole  desert  region 


For  the  loved  ones  at  home 

to  the  west  of  ancient  Thebes  is  a  vast  cemetery.  If 
the  merchant's  stock  runs  low  he  can  go  out  with  a 
spade  and  dig  up  a  new  supply,  just  as  a  farmer 
would  go  after  artichokes. 

281 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Our  guide  co-operated  with  the  ghouls.  He  rushed 
about  hunting  up  strange  and  grisly  specimens  and 
brought  them  to  us  and  begged  us  to  examine  them 
and  then  pick  out  a  few  for  the  loved  ones  at  home. 
I  regret  to  say  that  we  did  purchase  a  few  of  these 
preserved  extremities.  The  guide  said  we  could  use 
them  as  paper  weights. 

This  same  dragoman,  or  guide,  or  highbinder,  or 
whatever  you  may  choose  to  call  him — and  Mr.  Peas- 
ley  called  him  nearly  everything — gave  us  a  lot  of 
cheerful  entertainment  during  our  four  days  in 
Luxor.  Mr.  Peasley  was  in  hot  pursuit  of  guaran 
teed  antiquities.  He  said  he  had  an  old  bookcase  at 
home  which  he  was  going  to  convert  into  a  curio 
cabinet.  There  is  one  dealer  in  Luxor  who  is  said  to 
be  absolutely  trustworthy.  He  supplies  museums  and 
private  collections  throughout  the  world,  and  if  you 
buy  a  scarab  or  a  carved  image  from  him  you  know 
that  you  have  something  genuine  and  worth  keeping. 
Mr.  Peasley  in  a  thoughtless  moment  requested  the 
dragoman  to  conduct  us  to  this  shop.  We  went  in 
and  burrowed  through  the  heaps  of  tempting  rubbish 
and  began  to  dicker  for  a  job  lot  of  little  images, 
tear  jars,  amulets,  etc.,  that  are  found  in  the  mummy 
cases.  That  dragoman  saw  the  covetous  gleam  in  the 
Peasley  eye  and  he  knew  that  the  man  from  Iowa  in- 

282 


ROYAL  TOMBS  AND  OTHER  PLACES 

tended  loading  up  with  antiques,  and  he  also  knew 
that  Mr.  Peasley  wished  to  do  this  purchasing  single- 
handed  and  without  the  assistance  of  a  dragoman, 
who  would  come  in  for  a  ten  per  cent,  commission. 
We  told  the  dealer  we  would  drop  around  later.  So 
we  went  to  the  hotel  and  dismissed  the  dragoman — 
told  him  to  go  home  and  get  a  good  night's  rest  and 
be  on  hand  at  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning. 

After  we  were  safely  in  the  hotel  Mr.  Peasley  con 
fided  his  plans  to  us. 

"  I  don't  want  to  buy  the  stuff  while  that  infernal 
Mahmoud  is  along,"  he  said.  "  Why  should  he  get 
a  rake-off?  We  didn't  go  to  the  shop  on  his  recom 
mendation.  Now,  I'll  go  over  there  by  myself,  pick 
out  what  I  want,  and  strike  a  bargain." 

We  offered  to  go  along  and  assist,  so  we  started 
up  a  side  street,  and  after  we  had  gone  a  block  Mah 
moud  stepped  out  from  a  doorway  and  said,  "  Come, 
I  will  show  you  the  way."  We  told  him  we  had  just 
sauntered  out  for  a  breath  of  air,  so  we  walked  aim 
lessly  around  a  block  and  were  escorted  back  to  the 
hotel. 

"  I'll  go  over  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,"  said 
Mr.  Peasley.  "  I'll  be  there  at  eight  o'clock,  because 
he  isn't  due  here  until  nine." 

When  he  arrived  at  the  shop  early  next  morning 
283 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Mahmoud  was  standing  in  the  doorway  wearing  a 
grin  of  devilish  triumph.  Mr.  Peasley  kept  on  walk 
ing  and  pretending  not  to  see  him,  but  he  came  back 
to  the  hotel  mad  all  the  way  through. 

"  We're  up  against  an  Oriental  mind-reader,  but 
I'll   fool   him   yet,"   he   declared.  "  When   we   come 


Mahmoud — wearing  a  grin  of  devilish  triumph 

back  to  the  hotel  for  luncheon  and  he  is  waiting  for 
us  with  the  donkey  boys  on  the  east  side  of  the  hotel 
we  will  go  out  the  west  door  to  the  river  bank  and  cut 

284 


ROYAL  TOMBS  AND  OTHER  PLACES 

south  around  the  Presbyterian  Mission  and  come 
back  to  the  shop." 

Mr.  Peasley  did  not  know  that  Mahmoud  had  or 
ganised  all  the  hotel  servants  into  a  private  detect 
ive  agency.  He  must  have  known  of  our  escape  on 
the  river  side  before  we  had  gone  a  hundred  feet  from 
the  hotel,  for  when,  after  executing  our  brilliant 
flank  movement,  we  arrived  at  the  shop  of  the  anti 
quarian,  Mahmoud  and  the  proprietor  were  sitting 
in  the  front  room  drinking  Turkish  coffee  and  wait 
ing  for  the  prey  to  wander  into  the  trap.  Mahmoud 
did  not  seem  surprised  to  see  us.  He  bade  us  welcome 
and  said  that  his  friend  the  dealer  was  an  Egyptolo 
gist  whose  guarantee  was  accepted  by  every  museum 
in  the  world,  and  if  we  were  in  the  market  for  an 
tiques  he  would  earnestly  advise  us  to  seek  no  fur 
ther.  After  this  evidence  of  a  close  and  friendly 
understanding  between  the  dragoman  and  the  dealer 
we  had  a  feeling  that  Mahmoud  would  get  his  ten 
per  cent,  even  if  we  succeeded  in  eluding  him  and 
buying  on  our  own  hook. 

But  we  hated  to  acknowledge  ourselves  beaten.  At 
dusk  that  evening  we  started  toward  the  shop,  in  a 
half-hearted  and  experimental  spirit,  and  presently 
we  observed  Mahmoud  following  along  fifty  feet  be 
hind  us.  We  went  to  the  garden  of  a  neighbouring 

285 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

hotel  and  sat  there  until  eleven  o'clock.  When  we 
came  out  Mahmoud  was  at  the  gateway.  He  said  it 
was  not  always  safe  for  travellers  to  be  about  the 
streets  at  night,  so  he  would  protect  us  and  show  us 
the  way  back  to  our  hotel. 

We  found  it  impossible  to  get  away  from  him. 
No  Siberian  bloodhound  ever  followed  a  convict's 
trail  more  closely.  If  we  ventured  forth,  early  or 
late,  we  found  ourselves  shadowed  by  that  smiling 
reprobate.  When  it  came  to  the  last  day  in  Luxor 
Mr.  Peasley  did  the  bold  thing.  He  permitted  Mah 
moud  to  escort  him  to  the  shop,  and  then  he  said  to 
the  dealer : — "  This  man  is  our  guide,  but  he  is  not 
entitled  to  any  commission  because  he  did  not  bring 
us  to  your  shop.  If  he  had  recommended  your  shop 
in  the  first  place  we  would  not  have  come  here  at  all. 
He  is  a  bluff.  He  is  trying  to  ring  in.  I  want  to  buy 
a  few  things  here,  with  the  understanding  that  he 
doesn't  get  anything  out  of  it.  We  have  already  paid 
him  two  salaries  for  guiding  us  and  he  isn't  a  guide 
at  all — he's  a  night  watchman." 

The  dealer  vowed  and  protested  that  he  never  paid 
commissions  to  anyone.  Mahmoud,  not  at  all  ruf 
fled  by  the  attack  on  his  character,  said  that  his 
only  ambition  in  life  was  to  serve  the  noble  gentleman 
from  the  famous  country  known  as  Iowa.  So  Mr. 

286 


ROYAL    TOMBS    AND    OTHER    PLACES 
Peasley  bought  his  assortment  of  antiques,  and  Mah- 
moud  looked  on  and  then  carried  the  parcel  back  to 
the   hotel,   walking  respectfully   behind   the   "  noble 
gentleman." 

"Well,  I  blew  myself,"  reported  Mr.  Peasley. 
"  And  I'll  bet  a  thousand  dollars  that  Mahmoud  gets 
his  ten  per  cent." 

Whereupon  Mahmoud  smiled — the  pensive,  pat 
ronising  smile  of  a  civilisation  five  thousand  years 
old  looking  down  on  the  aboriginal  product  of  the 
Western  prairies. 

On  the  morning  of  our  departure  from  Luxor 
Mahmoud  came  around  for  his  letter  of  recommenda 
tion.  I  had  worked  for  an  hour  to  write  something 
evasive  which  would  satisfy  him  and  not  perjure  me 
too  deeply.  When  he  came  to  the  hotel  I  gave  him 
the  following: — 

To  Whom  It  May  Concern: — The  bearer,  Mahmoud, 
has  been  our  dragoman  for  four  days  and  has  attended 
us  faithfully  at  all  hours;  also,  he  has  shown  us  as 
many  temples  as  we  wished  to  see. 

He  looked  at  the  paper  blankly  and  said,  "  I  do 
not  read  English."  At  that  Mr.  Peasley  brightened 
up.  He  read  the  testimonial  aloud  to  Mahmoud  and 
declared  that  it  was  incomplete  and  unworthy  of  the 

287 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

subject  matter.  In  ten  minutes  he  completed  the  fol 
lowing  and  the  dragoman  took  it  away  with  him, 
highly  pleased: — 

To  Whom  It  May  Concern — Greeting: — The  hearer, 
Mahmoud,  is  a  dragoman  of  monumental  mendacity  and 
commercial  Machiavellism.  His  simulated  efforts  to 
faithfully  serve  us  and  protect  our  interests  have  had 
an  altogether  negative  effect.  Anyone  employing  him  will 
find  him  possessed  of  moral  turpitude  and  a  superlative 
consciousness  of  his  own  worth.  His  knowledge  of  Egyp 
tian  history  is  enormously  inconsequential,  while  his 
English  vocabulary  is  amazing  in  its  variety  of  verbal 
catastrophes.  We  commend  him  to  travellers  desirous  of 
studying  the  native  characteristics  of  the  most  geolog 
ical  stratum  of  society. 

"  He  has  made  a  lot  of  trouble  for  us,  and  now 
we've  got  even  by  ruining  him,"  said  Mr.  t'easley. 

It  seemed  a  joke  at  the  time,  but  later  on,  when  we 
thought  it  over,  we  felt  sorry  for  Mahmoud  and 
wished  we  had  not  taken  such  a  mean  advantage  of 
him.  After  all  is  said  and  done,  a  man  must  make  a 
living. 

On  our  way  back  to  Cairo  from  Assouan  we 
stopped  over  at  Luxor.  Mahmoud,  by  intuition  or 
through  telepathy,  knew  that  we  were  coming  and 

288 


ROYAL  TOMBS  AND  OTHER  PLACES 

met  us  at  the  station.  He  was  overjoyed  to  see  us 
again. 

"  I  showed  your  letter  to  a  gentleman  from  the 
Kingdom  of  Ohio,"  said  he,  "  and  it  procured  for 
me  one  of  the  best  jobs  I  ever  had." 


289 


IN    CAIRO 


CHAPTER   XX 

MR.    PEASLEY    AND    HIS    FINAL    SIZE-UP 
OF    EGYPT 

ON  the  morning  of  our  hurried  pack  up  and  get 
away  from  Luxor  we  lost  Mr.  Peasley.  It  was  a  half- 
hour  before  the  sailing  of  the  boat,  and  we  were  at 
tempting  to  lock  trunks,  call  in  the  porters,  give 
directions  as  to  forwarding  mail,  and  tip  everybody 
except  the  proprietor  all  at  the  same  time. 

This  excruciating  crisis  comes  with  every  depar 
ture.  The  fear  of  missing  the  boat,  the  lurking  sus 
picion  that  several  articles  have  been  left  in  lower 
drawers  or  under  the  sofa,  the  dread  of  overlooking 
some  worthy  menial  who  is  entitled  to  baksheesh,  the 
uneasy  conviction  that  the  bill  contains  several  over 
charges — all  these  combine  to  produce  a  mental  con 
dition  about  halfway  between  plain  "  rattles  "  and 
female  hysteria.  And  then,  to  add  to  the  horror  of 
the  situation,  Mr.  Peasley  had  disappeared. 

All  hands  were  needed — one  to  boss  the  porters, 
another  to  round  up  the  tippees,  another  to  audit  the 
charges  for  "  extras,"  another  to  make  a  final  search 

293 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

for  razor  strops  and  hot  water  bags  (of  which  we 
had  left  a  trail  from  Chicago  to  Cairo).  Instead  of 
attending  to  these  really  important  duties  we  were 
loping  madly  about  the  hotel  looking  for  Peasley. 
We  asked  one  another  why  we  had  invited  him  to 
join  the  party.  We  called  him  all  the  names  that  we 
had  invented  on  the  trip  to  fit  his  unusual  personality. 
One  of  these  was  a  "  flat-headed  f  ush."  I  don't  know 
know  what  a  "  fush  "  is,  but  the  more  you  study  it 
and  repeat  it  over  to  yourself,  the  more  horrible 
becomes  the  full  significance  of  the  word.  Also  we 
called  him  a  "  swozzie,"  which  means  a  chump  who 
has  gone  on  and  on,  exploring  the  furthermost  re 
gions  of  idiocy,  until  even  his  most  daring  compan 
ions  are  left  far  behind.  We  called  Mr.  Peasley  a 
"  wall-eyed  spingo,"  the  latter  being  a  mullet  that  has 
lost  all  sense  of  shame.  Ordinary  abuse  and  profanity 
became  weak  and  ineffective  when  pitted  against 
words  of  this  scathing  nature. 

Reader,  if  you  have  a  life-long  friend  and  you 
feel  reasonably  sure  that  you  never  could  quarrel 
with  him  or  be  out  of  patience  with  him  or  find  fault 
with  any  of  his  small  peculiarities,  go  on  a  long  trip 
with  him  in  foreign  lands.  You  will  be  together  so 
much  of  the  time  that  finally  each  will  begin  to  hate 
the  sight  of  the  other.  There  will  come  off  days, 

294 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

fraught  with  petty  annoyances,  when  each  will  have 
a  fretful  desire  to  hurl  cameras  and  suit  cases  at  his 
beloved  playmate.  Suppose  your  lifelong  friend  has 
some  little  eccentricity  of  manner  or  speech,  some 
slight  irregularity  of  behaviour  at  the  table,  or  a  per- 


You  discover  every  one  of  his  shining  faults 

verted  and  stubborn  conviction  which  reveals  itself 
in  every  controversy.  You  may  have  overlooked  this 
defect  for  years  because  you  meet  him  only  at  inter 
vals,  but  when  you  begin  to  camp  with  him  you  dis 
cover  every  one  of  his  shining  faults.  And  how  they 

295 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

do  get  on  your  nerves !  Next  to  matrimony,  perhaps 
travelling  together  is  the  most  severe  test  of  com 
patibility. 

We  liked  Mr.  Peasley.  Looking  back  over  the  trip, 
we  can  well  believe  that  the  expedition  would  have 
been  rather  tame  if  deprived  of  his  cheering  pres 
ence.  But  he  was  so  full  of  initiative  and  so  given  to 
discovering  byways  of  adventure  that  he  was  always 
breaking  in  on  the  programme  and  starting  little 
excursions  of  his  own.  He  was  a  very  hard  man  to 
mobilise.  If  we  had  solemnly  agreed  to  get  together 
for  luncheon  at  one  o'clock,  three  of  us  would  be  wait 
ing  at  the  food  garage  while  Mr.  Peasley  would  be 
a  mile  away,  trying  to  buy  a  four-dollar  Abyssinian 
war  shield  for  $2.75. 

And  where  do  you  suppose  he  was  on  the  morning 
we  were  making  our  frenzied  departure  from  Luxor? 
We  found  him  in  the  barber  shop,  having  his  hair 
cut.  A  native  stood  alongside  of  him,  brushing  away 
the  flies.  The  barber,  a  curly  Italian,  had  ceased  work 
when  we  came  in,  and,  encouraged  by  the  questions 
of  Mr.  Peasley,  was  describing  the  Bay  of  Naples, 
pointing  out  Capri,  Sorrento,  Vesuve,  and  other 
points  of  interest,  with  a  comb  in  one  hand  and  a  pair 
of  scissors  in  the  other.  This  barber  had  made  an 
indelible  impression  on  Mr.  Peasley,  because  of  his 

296 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

name,  which  was  Signor  Mosquito.  Mr.  Peasley  said 
he  didn't  see  how  anyone  with  a  name  like  that  could 
live. 

We  lined  up  in  front  of  Mr.  Peasley  and  gazed 
at  him  in  withering  silence.  He  was  not  f eazed. 

"  Talk  about   oriental  luxury,"   he   said.  "  Little 
did  I  think  twenty  years  ago,  when  I  was  measurin' 


He  was  not  f  eazed 

unbleached  muslin  and  drawin'  New  Orleans  syrup 
in  a  country  store,  that  one  day  I'd  recline  on  a  spot- 

297 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

ted  divan  and  have  a  private  vassal  to  keep  the  flies 
off  of  me.  To  say  nothing  of  bein'  waited  on  by 
Signer  Mosquito." 

I  tried  to  hold  down  the  safety  valve  of  my  wrath. 

"  We  have  just  held  a  meeting  and  by  unanimous 
vote  we  have  decided  that  you  are  an  irresponsible 
fush,  a  night  blooming  swozzie,  and  a  vitrified 
spingo,"  I  said. 

"  Thanks,"  he  replied.  "  I'll  do  as  much  for  you 
sometime." 

"  Are  you  aware  of  the  fact  that  the  boat  departs 
in  twenty  minutes  ?  "  asked  No.  2. 

"  The  boat  will  not  leave  its  mooring  until  Peasley, 
of  Iowa,  is  safely  aboard,"  he  replied.  "  Why  is  it 
that  you  fellows  begin  to  throw  duck  fits  every  time 
we  have  to  catch  a  boat  or  train?  Kindly  send  my 
luggage  aboard,  and  as  soon  as  Signor  Mosquito  has 
concluded  his  amputations,  I  shall  join  you." 

Words  failed  us.  We  hurried  to  the  boat,  feeling 
reasonably  certain  that  he  would  follow  us  to  As 
souan  by  rail.  When  it  came  time  to  cast  off,  Mr. 
Peasley  had  not  appeared,  and  our  irritation  was 
gradually  softening  into  a  deep  joy.  The  warning 
whistle  blew  twice,  and  then  Mr.  Peasley  came  down 
the  bank,  carrying  a  Nubian  spear  eight  feet  long 
over  his  shoulder.  By  the  time  he  had  arrived  on  the 

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FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

upper  deck  the  gangplank  was  drawn  and  we  were 
swinging  in  the  current. 

He  bestowed  on  us  a  cool  smile  of  triumph,  and 
then  removed  his  hat.  His  hair  had  been  given  a 
shellac  finish  and  smelled  like  the  front  doorway  of  a 
drug  store. 

"  Signer  Mosquito  is  well  named,"  said  Mr.  Peas- 
ley.  "  When  he  got  through  with  me  he  stung  me  for 
fifteen  piastres." 

For  several  hours  we  refused  to  speak  to  him  or 
sit  near  him  on  deck,  but  finally  we  needed  him  to  fill 
out  a  four-handed  game  of  dominoes  and  he  was 
taken  back  on  probation.  While  we  were  engaged  in 
a  very  stubborn  session  of  "  double  nines,"  we  no 
ticed  that  most  of  our  fellow  passengers,  and 
especially  those  of  English  persuasion,  were  making 
our  little  group  the  target  for  horrified  glances. 
Some  of  them  actually  glared  at  us.  We  began  to 
wonder  if  dominoes  was  regarded  as  an  immoral 
practice  in  Egypt. 

"  These  people  keep  on  looking  at  us  as  if  we 
were  a  happy  band  of  burglars,"  said  Mr.  Peasley. 
"  We  think  we  are  travelling  incog.,  but  our  repu 
tation  has  preceded  us." 

Then  we  heard  one  old  lady  ask  another  if  there 
would  be  any  evening  services  in  the  dining  saloon, 

299 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

and  Mr.  Peasley,  who  was  reaching  into  the  '*  bone 
yard,"  suddenly  paused  with  his  hand  up  and  ex 
claimed  : — "  Sanctified  catfish !  Boys,  it's  Sunday ! " 


"  Boys,  it's  Sunday!" 

It  was.  We  had  been  sitting  there  among  those 
nice  people  throughout  the  calm  Sabbath  afternoon 
playing  a  wicked  game  of  chance.  After  two  weeks 
among  the  Mohammedans  and  other  heathen,  with 
every  day  a  working  day  and  the  English  Sun 
day  a  dead  letter,  we  had  lost  all  trace  of  dates.  Mr. 

300 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

Peasley  .said  that  if  anyone  had  asked  him  the  day 
of  the  week  he  would  have  guessed  Wednesday. 

This  unfortunate  incident  helped  to  deepen  and 
solidify  the  dark  suspicion  with  which  we,  as  Amer 
icans,  were  regarded  by  the  contingent  from  Great 
Britain.  If  our  conduct  had  been  exemplary  we  could 
not  have  cleared  away  this  suspicion,  but  after  the 
domino  debauch  we  were  set  down  as  hopeless.  The 
middle  class  English  guard  their  social  status  very 
carefully,  and  you  can't  blame  them.  It  is  a  tender 
and  uncertain  growth  that  requires  looking  after 
all  the  time.  If  they  didn't  water  it  and  prune  it 
and  set  it  out  in  the  sunshine  every  day  it  would  soon 
wither  back  to  its  original  stalk. 

Did  you  ever  come  across  a  bunch  of  melancholy 
pilgrims  from  the  suburban  villas  and  the  dull  gray 
provincial  towns  of  dear  old  England?  Did  you  ever 
observe  the  frightened  manner  in  which  they  hold 
aloof  from  Germans,  Americans,  Bedouins,  Turks, 
and  other  foreigners?  They  fear  that  if  they  drift 
into  friendly  relationship  with  people  they  meet  while 
travelling,  later  on  seme  of  these  chance  acquaint 
ances  may  look  them  up  at  Birmingham  or  Stoke- 
on-Trent  and  expect  to  be  entertained  at  the 
foundry. 

A  large  majority  of  our  fellow  passengers  from 
301 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

Luxor  to  Assouan  were  of  elderly  pattern.  We  esti 
mated  the  average  age  to  be  about  eighty-three.  Mr. 
Peasley  said  an  irreverent  thing  about  these  vener 
able  tourists. 

"  Why  do  these  people  come  all  the  way  to  Egypt 
to  look  at  the  ruins?"  he  asked.  "Why  don't  they 
stay  at  home  and  look  at  one  another  ?  " . 

We  rebuked  him  for  saying  it,  but  somehow  or 
other  these  rebukes  never  seemed  to  have  any  per 
manent  restraining  effect. 

Our  boat  arrived  at  Assouan  one  morning  accom 
panied  by  a  sand  storm  and  a  cold  wave.  The  Cat 
aract  Hotel  stood  on  a  promontory  overlooking  a 
new  kind  of  Nile — a  swift  and  narrow  stream  stud 
ded  with  gleaming  boulders  of  granite.  We  liked 
Assouan  because  the  weather  was  ideal  (after  the 
sand  storm  ran  out  of  sand),  the  hotel  was  the  best 
we  had  found  in  Egypt,  and  there  were  so  few  an 
tiques  that  sightseeing  became  a  pleasure.  Besides, 
after  one  has  been  to  Luxor,  anything  in  the  way 
of  ancient  temples  is  about  as  much  of  a  come-down 
as  turkey  hash  the  day  after  Thanksgiving. 

Here,  on  the  border  of  Nubia,  we  began  to  get 
glimpses  of  real  Africa.  We  rode  on  camels  to  a 
desert  camp  of  hilarious  Bisharins.  They  are  the 
gypsies  of  Nubia — dress  their  hair  with  mud  instead 

302 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

of  bay  rum  and  reside  under  a  patch  of  gunnysack 
propped  up  by  two  sticks.  On  the  hills  back  of  the 
town  we  saw  the  barracks  where  the  English  army 
gathered  itself  to  move  south  against  the  Mahdists. 
We  were  invited  to  go  out  in  the  moonlight  and  hunt 
hyenas,  but  did  not  think  it  right  to  kill  off  all  the 
native  game. 

The  big  exhibit  at  Assouan,  and  one  of  the  great 
engineering  achievements  of  modern  times,  is  the  dam 
across  the  Nile.  It  is  a  solid  wall  of  granite,  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  long,  100  feet  high  in  places  and  88 
feet  through  the  base,  and  it  looks  larger  than  it 
sounds.  We  went  across  it  on  a  push  car  after  taking 
a  boat  ride  in  the  reservoir  basin,  which  is  said  to 
contain  284,000,000  gallons  of  water.  This  estimate 
is  correct,  as  nearly  as  we  could  figure  it.  The  dam 
is  about  four  miles  above  the  town.  We  rode  up  on 
a  dummy  train,  with  cars  almost  as  large  as  Sara 
toga  trunks,  and  came  back  in  a  small  boat.  We  shot 
the  rapids,  just  for  excitement,  and  after  we  had 
caved  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and  stopped  an  hour 
for  repairs  we  decided  that  we  had  stored  up  enough 
excitement,  so  after  that  we  followed  the  more  placid 
waters. 

The  black  boatmen  had  a  weird  chant,  which  they 
repeated  over  and  over,  keeping  time  with  the 

303 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

stroke.   It  was   a  combination   of  Egyptian  melody 
and  American  college  yell,  and  ran  as  follows: — 

Hep!  Hep!  Horay! 
Hep!  Hep!  Horay! 
Hep!  Hep!  Horay! 
All  right!  Thank  you! 

This  effort  represented  their  sum  total  of  English, 
and  they  were  very  proud  of  it,  and  we  liked  it,  too 
— that  is,  the  first  million  times.  After  that,  the 
charm  of  novelty  was  largely  dissipated. 

Many  people  visit  Assouan  because  of  the  kiln- 
dried  atmosphere,  which  is  supposed  to  have  a  dis 
couraging  effect  on  rheumatism  and  other  ailments 
that  flourish  in  a  damp  climate.  Assouan  is  as  dry 
as  Pittsburg  on  Sunday.  It  is  surrounded  by  desert 
and  the  sun  always  seems  to  be-  working  overtime. 
The  traveller  who  does  much  rambling  out  of  doors 
gradually  assumes  the  brown  and  papery  complex 
ion  of  a  royal  mummy,  his  lips  become  parched  and 
flaky,  and  he  feels  like  a  grocery  store  herring, 
which,  it  is  believed,  is  about  the  driest  thing  on 
record. 

We  did  love  Assouan.  Coming  back  from  a  camel 
ride,  with  a  choppy  sea  on,  gazing  through  the  heat 
waves  at  the  tufted  palms  and  the  shimmering  white 

304 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

walls,  we  would  know  that  there  was  ice  only  a  mile 
ahead  of  us,  and  then  our  love  for  Assouan  would 
become  too  deep  for  words. 

Burton  Holmes,  the  eminent  lecturer  and  travel 
ogue  specialist,  was  lying  up  at  Assouan,  having  a 
tiresome  argument  with  the  germ  that  invented  ma 
laria.  He  had  come  up  the  Nile  in  a  deep  draught 
boat  and  had  succeeded  in  finding  many  sand  bars 
that  other  voyagers  had  overlooked.  Just  below  As 
souan  the  boat  wedged  itself  into  the  mud  and  could 
not  be  floated  until  thirty  natives,  summoned  from 
the  surrounding  country,  had  waded  underneath  and 
"  boosted  "  all  afternoon.  When  it  came  time  to  pay 
the  men  the  captain  of  the  boat  said  to  Mr.  Holmes : 
"  What  do  you  think?  They  demand  eight  shil- 
lings." 

"  It  is  an  outrage,"  said  Mr.  Holmes.  "  Eight 
shillings  is  two  dollars.  Even  in  America  I  can  get 
union  labour  for  two  dollars  a  day.  There  are  thirty 
of  them.  Couldn't  we  compromise  for  a  lump  sum  of 
fifty  dollars?" 

"  You  do  not  understand,"  said  the  captain.  "  We 
are  asked  to  pay  eight  shillings  for  the  whole  crowd. 
I  think  that  six  would  be  enough." 

Whereupon  Mr.  Holmes  gave  them  ten  shillings, 
or  8  1-3  cents  each,  and  as  he  sailed  away  the  grate- 

305 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

ful  assemblage  gave  three  rousing  cheers  for  Mr. 
Rockefeller. 

When  we  left  Assouan  we  scooted  by  rail  direct 
to  Cairo,  to  rest  up  and  recover  from  our  recupera 
tion. 

It  is  customary  in  winding  up  a  series  of  letters 


to  draw  certain  profound  conclusions  and  give  hints 
to  travellers  who  may  hope  to  follow  the  same  beaten 
path.  Fortunately,  Mr.  Peasley  had  done  this  for 

306 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

us.  He  promised  a  real  estate  agent  in  Fairfield, 
Iowa,  that  he  would  let  him  know  about  Egypt. 
One  night  in  Assouan  he  read  to  us  the  letter  to  his 
friend,  and  we  borrowed  it: — 

Assouan,  Some  time  in  April. 
Deloss  M.  GifFord, 

Fairfield,  Iowa,  U.  S.  A. 
My  Dear  Giff:— 

I  have  gone  as  far  up  the  Nile  as  my  time  and  the 
letter  of  credit  will  permit.  At  8  G.  M.  to-morrow  I  turn 
my  face  toward  the  only  country  on  earth  where  a  man 
can  get  a  steak  that  hasn't  got  goo  poured  all  over  it. 
Meet  me  at  the  station  with  a  pie.  Tell  mother  I  am 
coming  home  to  eat. 

Do  I  like  Egypt?  Yes — because  now  I  will  be  satis 
fied  with  Iowa.  Only  I'm  afraid  that  when  I  go  back 
and  see  160  acres  of  corn  in  one  field  I  won't  believe  it. 
Egypt  is  a  wonderful  country,  but  very  small  for  its 
age.  It  is  about  as  wide  as  the  court  house  square,  but 
it  seems  to  me  at  least  10,000  miles  long,  as  we  have 
been  two  weeks  getting  up  to  the  First  Cataract.  Most 
of  the  natives  are  farmers.  The  hard-working  tenant 
gets  one-tenth  of  the  crop  every  year  and  if  he  looks  up 
to  see  the  steamboats  go  by  he  is  docked.  All  Egyptians 
who  are  not  farmers  are  robbers.  The  farmers  live  on 
the  river.  All  other  natives  live  on  the  tourists. 

307 


IN    PASTURES    NEW 

I  have  seen  so  many  tombs  and  crypts  and  family 
vaults  that  I  am  ashamed  to  look  an  undertaker  in  the 
face.  For  three  weeks  I  have  tried  to  let  on  to  pretend 
to  make  a  bluff  at  being  deeply  interested  in  these  open 
graves.  Other  people  gushed  about  them  and  I  was 
afraid  that  if  I  didn't  trail  along  and  show  some  senti 
mental  interest  they  might  suspect  that  I  was  from  Iowa 
and  was  shy  on  soulfulness.  I'll  say  this  much,  however 
— I'm  mighty  glad  I've  seen  them,  because  now  I'll  never 
have  to  look  at  them  again. 

Egypt  is  something  like  the  old  settler — you'd  like  to 
roast  him  and  call  him  down,  but  you  hate  to  jump  on 
anything  so  venerable  and  weak.  Egypt  is  so  old  that 
you  get  the  headache  trying  to  think  back.  Egypt  had 
gone  through  forty  changes  of  administration  and  was 
on  the  down  grade  before  Iowa  was  staked  out. 

The  principal  products  of  this  country  are  insects, 
dust,  guides,  and  fake  curios.  I  got  my  share  of  each.  I 
am  glad  I  came,  and  I  may  want  to  return  some  day, 
but  not  until  I  have  worked  the  sand  out  of  my  ears 
and  taken  in  two  or  three  county  fairs.  I  have  been  walk 
ing  down  the  main  aisle  with  my  hat  in  my  hand  so  long 
that  now  I  am  ready  for  something  lively. 

Americans  are  popular  in  Egypt,  during  business 
hours.  Have  not  been  showered  with  social  attentions, 
but  I  am  always  comforted  by  the  thought  that  the  ex 
clusive  foreign  set  cannot  say  anything  about  me  that  I 

308 


FINAL    SIZE-UP    OF    EGYPT 

haven't  already  said  about  it.  Of  course,  we  could  retal 
iate  in  proper  fashion  if  we  could  lure  the  foreigners 
out  to  Iowa,  but  that  seems  out  of  the  question.  They 
think  Iowa  is  in  South  America. 

I  shall  mail  this  letter  and  then  chase  it  all  the  way 
home. 

Give  my  love  to  everybody,  whether  I  know  them  or 
not.  Yours,  PEASLEY. 

P.  S. — Open  some  preserves. 

Not  a  comprehensive  review  of  the  fruits  of  our 
journey  and  yet  fairly  accurate. 


THE    END 


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